Seeing is Believing
by solitairebbw218
Summary: A young artist thinks she is losing it when a rogueish pirate's spirit comes back to haunt his likeness in a Famous Wax Museum in Vegas. Working together, can they defeat their mutual enemies, or will Jack steal Jo's heart along with her sanity? Modern
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean-this is just some of the crazy stuff that comes out of my head. I would appreciate any comments or suggestions---this is my first fan fic so please be gentle..grin **

**Seeing Is Believing**

**Chapter 1: The Making of a Pirate**

"Evenin', Miss Jo. Working on the Captain again tonight?"

Jocelyn Perry smiled up at the tall, lanky security guard as he turned to punch in the security code at the employee entrance of the casino resort. The hot Nevada sun had set more than an hour before, but the blacktop parking lot beneath their feet still radiated shimmering waves of heat, enough to make her eager to get inside the cool harbor of her studio deep inside Vegas's undisputed flagship of the casino fleet . _Funny…._she thought with a silent chuckle as she proceeded Frank into the building…._ever since I started on this latest project, I've even started thinking in nautical terms. I guess I finally have to admit it…I am officially obsessed……_

"Maybe a little later, if I have the time. It's time for Diana's seasonal change, The King is losing eyelashes at an alarming rate, and Brad Pitt is in need of his weekly touch up. Ever since he did that nude scene as Achilles in Troy, women just can't seem to keep their hands off of him, and he's not going to have any lips or ass left at this rate."

"It's not just the women, sweets---you should see some of the surveillance video we have on file sometime!" He grinned widely at her amazed stare and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, there's no accounting for taste. I'd much rather lock lips with Marilyn Monroe than Aaahnold" adopting the California Governors distinctive accent "But hey, to each his own." Frank chuckled heartily as he swiped the lock on the inner doors with his magnetic key and punched the access code before opening it with a courtly bow. "After you, milady." The 60'ish guard intoned gallantly as he did each evening, removing his hat with a sweeping gesture, ushering her forward into the icy hallway. He couldn't resist taking a moment to admire the artist's legs displayed by the knee length khaki skirt and wedged espadrilles she wore, or the nicely rounded curves charmingly accented by the thigh length belted crinkle cotton blouse.

"Thanks, Frank…..see you in the morning, and I promise I'll try to keep it down tonight." Jo grinned mischievously and wrinkled her nose at the guard, who favored her with a serious scowl that was tempered with the humorous glint in his eyes. "See that you do!." He called after her as she headed down the corridor.. "I get enough reports about the museum being haunted without calls of someone strangling a cat on the premises."

"Opera, Frank….it's called opera!" Exasperated but amused, Jo stuck her tongue out at his retreating back before pulling her own magnetic key out and swiping the lock to her studio. Flipping on the lights as the door closed quietly behind her, she tossed her purse on the shelf above the clothes rack and grabbed her smock before heading over to the corner table where her favorite project awaited her handiwork.

The head and upper shoulders of a man rested on the stand in front of a tray of neatly stored tools, paints, brushes and sections of hair. Along the wall were close up photos of Captain Jack Sparrow, in all his pirate glory, along with readouts listing minute measurements, etc. Madame T's had been granted permission to open a POTC Section, and Jo had been thrilled to be selected to be the artist that would create the famous Caribbean character from wax. She was only about a third of the way done with him, but now that the eyes and part of his famous dreadlocked hair had been added, he was well on his way to being the star of the new movie display. Reaching out a hand to pat the cool wax head fondly, she sighed with disappointment. "Sorry, Jack, but I'll have to get back to you later. The King and the Princess have priority tonight." She turned away, but her overly active imagination must have been working overtime, for she could have sworn she heard a rough, rogue-ish whisper from behind her….

"_That's Cap'n Sparrow, luv_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Wax on, Wax Off**

_Three Months Later…….._

Jo set her sponge and palette down with an exhausted sigh and climbed off her stool, wincing at the ache in her shoulder blades and back from the past several hours of work. She stretched like a cat, then popped a few vertebrae before turning to survey her work. Rubbing her neck, she smiled softly at the expression on the life like bust she had spent so many long hours creating….

Captain Jack Sparrow could never be mistaken for anything but male, even sans body as he was at that moment. His kohl rimmed mahogany eyes commanded attention, and were harmonized by the face's high cheekbones, straight Roman-inspired nose and healthy tanned complexion. The mouth, with its full bottom lip, the upper half hidden in his moustache, looked as if it was made to smile. If the bust could talk, she would have seen the glint of gold teeth in that wickedly witty mouth, as she had insisted on accuracy down to the smallest detail. The long, dark hair that she had spent hours inserting one strand at a time flowed down to the table top, ornamented with bright strands of glass and metal beads, coins and even pieces of bone. All in all, it was a remarkable likeness, and by far the best she had ever completed.

Smiling, Jo made a few last minute adjustments to his hair, then reached over to pick up the long, faded, pre-stressed red scarf beside her tools. Stepping up on a box beside the table for added height, she leaned forward to tie the scarf around the pirates forehead, wrapping her arms above and around him with his face pressed into her chest while she tightened and adjusted the headwear.

"_mmmmmmmphh………lovely.."_

Jo started and nearly fell off the box when the whispered comment came seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyes darted around in all directions, looking once again for the concealed speaker. It wasn't the first time in the past few months that she had heard that strange, disembodied voice while she was alone in the studio. She had been listening to opera while she worked on Captain Sparrow one evening when a low voice asked her to "Belay that caterwallin'". So she had complied, actually going so far as to purchase the _Pirates_ soundtrack to inspire her work, not that she needed much of that. There had been occasional whispered comments about her hair style and clothing, usually uttered in the wee hours of the morning, that she had chalked up to too much work and too little sleep. And then there had been the time she could have sworn that she heard a murmur or two that sounded like "'at tickles" when she had been painstakingly been trimming and grooming the pirate captain's dashing mustache. She knew then that the prankster's must have installed a hidden camera somewhere. Jo had gone along with it, thinking the show crew had been having a bit of harmless fun at her expense. She had thought that they would eventually get tired of their antics, but apparently, they hadn't. Uttering a few choice oaths, she turned around in place, glaring up at the ceiling and addressing her unseen watchers. "That's it. I've had it with this bullshit! If you don't quit spying on me and making wiseass comments, you're going to find out the real meaning of "artistic temperment!".

"Problems, Jocelyn?"

Jo jumped and turned to see Michael Dixon, lead artist on the project, standing in the open doorway observing her with his usual smug smirk. Jo straightened and turned back to start cleaning and putting away her tools before answering cooly. "Just a prankster with a microphone, Michael, nothing I can't handle."

"If you're sure…." His voice trailed off as he sauntered over to her work table to stand in beside her, "Not bad…not bad at all."

Jocelyn glanced over her shoulder to find him staring at her abundant cleavage displayed by her simple tank top, with a calculating look that sent chills down her spine. For some unknown reason, whenever he was near she felt like a rabbit that had been cornered by a rabid, slavering wolf. Slamming her tool drawer shut with much more force than necessary, she favored him with an icy glare. "Was there something you wanted, Michael? If not, I'm rather busy at the moment…"

Standing casually against her work table, Michael looking down at her from his superior height. "You know what I want, Josie," he said with a sigh, reaching out to run a finger down her bare arm, observing her through heavy lidded eyes. "You just haven't seen fit to give it to me yet." There was a tingling sensation, almost like a current of electricity in the air, and Jo could have sworn she heard that familiar voice mumble "_keep your 'ands off the goods, ye arrogant bastard." _Judging from Michael's lack of reaction, she was apparently the only one who heard the strangely accented comment, so she said nothing. Smiling with amusement when she jerked her arm away, he laced his fingers together and leaned back "Actually, I'm here to check on your progress and to share a bit of news. The powers that be have decided to move up the opening date for the exhibit, so you'd better get that sweet tush of yours in gear. I've finished Barbosa, and the Pearl exhibit will be opening to the public on Halloween Night." He turned and walked toward the door, turning back as he pulled it open. "Oh, and by the way, you've been designated as co-hostess for the opening gala, with yours truly, of course. I expect you to find something a little more" glancing at her simple skirt and cheap sandals with disdain "appropriate for the occasion. After all, this is Vegas…..no better place to show off what you've got or what you've bought. And don't be late." The door slammed behind him, and she let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

"My name's not Josie, dammit!….Freaking pervert." Jo cursed and threw down the small towel she had been using to dry her brushes with before covering her face with her hands for a long moment. It was just like Michael to get even with her for turning him down by putting her in an uncomfortable situation. Letting out a deep sigh, she slowly lowered her hands, sat back on her stool and focused her attention on the Captain once more. She adjusted his scarf and then picked up a long, dangling ear ornament. Leaning down, she quickly slid the French hook through the soft wax lobe and rolled her eyes when she heard a distinct hiss of pain. Letting out a heavy sigh, she sat back and glared at the bust and replied sarcastically. "Listen to you….a fearsome pirate, scourge of the Caribbean, whining about a little ear piercing." She shook her head and sat back to admire her work once more, and for some reason she wasn't surprised to hear the voice chuckling next to her. "_Saucy minx." _Closing her eyes, she shook her head and murmured to herself. "O.K, I think it's safe to say I've lost it…I'm having conversations with wax heads. Well, technically only one wax head and a cute one at that, but still, a wax head." She bit her lip and sighed, leaning back on the stool and wrapped her arms around her waist, smiling softly in her whimsical mood. "Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound I guess. I've got to confess.." She reached out to touch the handsome cheek. "I can't think of any wax figure I'd rather talk to than you, Jack Sparrow. By the way, I want to thank you for coming to my defense earlier, even if it was all just in my head." Rising, she picked up her purse from below the bench and was halfway to the studio door when she heard it once again.

"_Anytime, luv, and it's captain, savvy?." _ Jo stopped in her tracks, looked over her shoulder, shook her head and turned out the light, but grinned anyway and tossed the last word back over her shoulder.

"'Nite, Jack."


	3. Chapter 3

_A big thank you to all who have read my little story, and especially those who took the time to leave their comments. I will do my best to keep this updated every few days. I have changed the rating on this story to M because of the addition of a few not-so-nice words and some, erm, a-hem, shall we say, possible racy dialog in later chapters. Also, for the record I do not own any of the characters from Pirates of the Carribean...just the ones that burst out of my head onto the screen. Enjoy!_

_P.S. to Leanan Sidhe...Are you doing some long distance mind reading? hehehehe...stay tuned for future chapters (I think you'll be pleased!)_

_ Soli _

**Chapter 3: Waxing Poetic**

11:46 p.m. that same night…..

……_.Day--ummmmm! He's even sexier by candlelight………_

That was the main thought that crossed her mind when she found her self dining with none other than the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. The thick beeswax pillars on the table and set at other strategic points by the diamond pane windows gave off just enough light to dine by, while still leaving much of the room in shadow. Seated at one side of the table, Captain Jack Sparrow looked just as powerful in the candlelit cabin as he did on the deck of _The Black Pearl_. He was dressed in the style that she had come to know as uniquely his own…tight fitting dark gray leggings, well worn long-sleeved poet shirt open halfway to his waist, and dark blue unbuttoned vest which was held in place by a belted sash from which hung numerous items. From the top of his dark beaded and dreadlocked head to the slightly squared tips of his knee high buccaneer boots, he was lithe, lean and definitely not a man to be taken lightly.

She was so entranced by him that she didn't even wonder how she had been transported into what she recognized as his ship's great cabin or the elaborate late 17th century gown she wore. All that mattered was that she was there, across from the man who had so often found his way into her thoughts…..and, though she would never admit it to another living soul, her fantasies.

The subject of her gaze grinned widely, and Jo flushed with embarrassment, having been caught boldly admiring him, and he chuckled at her nervous reaction. Leaning far back in his chair, he slid his plate aside with one booted foot and crossed his ankles, resting them on the heavy oak table. Reaching out without even looking, he snagged the glass bottle of his trademark rum with his right hand, bending his left arm up behind his head. He held her gaze as he pulled the cork with his teeth, spitting the cork aside and tipped the bottle back for a long swig. Uttering a sigh of appreciation, he closed his eyes momentarily before he lowered the bottle and favored her with a frank stare of his own. Her dark brown hair was pulled back from her forehead in a loose bun, with fat sausage curls falling softly around her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were bright in the candlelight, green with golden amber flecks, framed with thick curling lashes. Her small nose with its slightly turned up end was the perfect size for her face, and he was intrigued by the dimples which appeared when she smiled, which was often. The interest in that gaze was obvious, and knowing that made her blush even more.

"_Aaahhhh, now that's a rare treat for these eyes indeed….a fair maiden's blush. Most of the females I have had the pleasure of associating with abandoned any pretense of their maidenly state many a year ago.. And it's displayed so nicely in that gown too…..makes me wonder how far down it goes…"_

Glancing down, Jo was horrified to see that the heat that had crossed her face had continued to spread south down her neck and across her "heaving bosoms" that were pushed up and out by the tightly laced gown. Completely mortified, she picked up the fan and whisked it back and forth in an effort to dispel the signs of her embarrassment. "It's a bit warm in here, don't you think, Jack?….Perhaps it would be best if you opened a window…."

Setting the nearly empty bottle of rum on the table by his feet, he stretched back further in his chair and laced his fingers behind his scarf covered head He reminded her of a contented cat……no, more like a well fed panther that having sated one hunger, was now poised to satisfy another. "_The only heat I'm feeling is the heat of your gaze on me, luv…..but as you mentioned heat, the rosy glow from your lovely self is making the candlelight obsolete…and I hate to waste good beeswax—hard to come by, y'know." _He favored her with a wicked grin as her fan waved faster, setting the flames to flicker dangerously as her flush deepened. "_And it's Captain, m'dearest Jocelyn, until such time as you and I further our acquaintance in a mutually…satisfying…manner.."_

( !Snap!)

The sound echoed like a cannon shot in the quiet room. Jo looked down to find that the thin sticks of the delicate sandalwood fan she held had broken when she nervously tightened her grip on it. Glaring at him, she raised her chin and fixed him with what she thought was her frostiest look, hiding the broken fan in her lap. " I can't think of any mutually satisfying activities I'd care to participate in with you, Mr. Sparrow," hoping with crossed fingers that he'd believe her lie.. "So I feel I must decline to acquiesce to your request……...that means no." Feeling clever after her verbal challenge, she crossed her arms across her still flaming chest and waited for his reply, which wasn't long in coming.

"_Funny you should be refusing my request already, Miss Perry, as I don't remember making one….."_

Jo hesitated all of half a second before lashing out under the table with her slipper-covered foot and kicking his already tilting chair ….hard. Although he had fast reflexes, the move was unexpected, and the chair hit the boards with a resounding crash. Jack flew back, knocking over the mostly empty bottle of rum as he did a somewhat ungraceful half somersault Jo burst out laughing at the sight she would not soon forget….the fearsome swashbuckler with his legs on the floor over his head, the spilled rum drizzling off the table onto his muscular rear, perfectly displayed in the form fitting pants. Moments later that same laughter was caught in her throat as he completed the roll and crouched before her with a fierce look upon his devilishly handsome face. Realizing the seriousness of her situation, Jo leaped up, knocking over her own chair in her haste to get to the door. What she hadn't counted on was Jack beating her to it, locking it and slipping the key safely away. A glowering Captain leaned back against the door with his arms crossed, his right hand stroking his braided beard, apparently contemplating what form of retaliation would be best.

Jo looked him square in the eye, knowing she had crossed the line but refusing to show that she was "shaking in her knickers", even though that definition was pretty close to the truth. He stepped forward and she stepped back until she had backed herself up against the table, looking up at him defiantly. Placing his arms on either side of her on the table, he leaned closer until she was almost half reclining in her efforts to evade him. Looking down at her as if he would bite her head right off, he took in a deep breath and…

"_**BOOOOOOOO!"**_

Jo shrieked and pushed against the laughing pirate, slapping at him until he managed to capture her flying hands. Pulling her away from the temptation of the varied dangerous and throwable objects on the table, Jack managed to twist her around until her back was against his chest. Making a few quick adjustments, he pinned her arms with his (straight jacket style) and rested his chin on her left shoulder, affording him a very comfortable view of the cleavage so nicely displayed in the elegant brocade gown. He chuckled softly as she wriggled suggestively against him, trying to get loose.

"_I have to admit, luv, you have a unique way of getting a man's attention. If a tumble was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask…"_

Furious with him and with herself, Jo renewed her struggles, shrieking with fury as Jack lifted her off her feet and swung her around to avoid her kicks. He dragged her easily back away from the table so she couldn't hurt herself or his furniture. Realizing she was in no way his equal physically, she stopped fighting against him and stood still, breathing hard. "Don't think you can get under my skirts that easily, Jack Sparrow. I'm not some common whore, and I won't be treated like one!"

Jack grinned in triumph, not relinquishing his hold on this fiery woman who felt so right in his arms. Nudging a curl or two out of the way, he blew softly on the back of her neck and had the satisfaction of feeling her shiver in his arms. _"Now why would I be wanting to get under your skirts, sweetheart, when it would be so much more interesting to get you out of them, ay?" _He felt her tense and gently shushed her.._"Easy, luv, I was only tweaking you. Can't blame me for trying though…I think it's the first time I've ever been jealous of a piece of clothing." _He leaned back against the cabin door as he felt her relax against him, smiling softly as her head fell back to rest perfectly under his chin. _"Do you promise not to bite, scratch, kick, spit, slap, stab, maim or otherwise damage my person if release you?"_

Feeling her nod, he slowly released her arms and was somewhat startled when she immediately turned around and pulled his mouth down to hers. Coming up for air a few minutes later, the amused pirate captain couldn't resist muttering against a pair of giggling lips…. _"…….now THAT'S interesting….."_

Jo sighed and giggled again as a rough tongue licked her mouth and the side of her face…"Stop it, Jack, you beast…." A few hard nudges and a long growling whine pulled her from the depths of sleep and back to reality with a yelp. Her yelp was followed by a yip from her spoiled rotten Jack Russell terrier, Nicodemus, who was bouncing on the bed demanding attention as usual.

Flopping back against the pillows and throwing the covers back over her head, Jo groaned pitifully and cursed the day she had bought that miserable dream interrupting mutt.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks to all who have read, reviewed (and hopefully liked)this story so far! I can't guarantee that the chapters will come out as quickly in the future as they are right now, but I am on a major roll for the time being and want to get as much of it published as I can before my brain melts down into a mushy puddle of pink wax...can you tell I am fascinated with wax? (just KIDDING, people! razberry)_** hehehehehehe**

**anyway...on to the next chapter! **

**Chapter 4: The Moon's a waxing……**

_Two days later……_

Jo grunted as she fought to get the awkward metal cart that bore the Captain's head in it's protective cradle through the narrow doorway of the dresser's studio. Carefully backing the cart into the room looking over her left shoulder, she failed to look over her right and bumped into a heavy object. Grunting a mild expletive, she swung around, uttering a gasp and freezing in place when she saw exactly what it was that she had run into.

The scowling face of Captain Barbosa, Captain Jack Sparrow's mutinous former first mate, loomed over her, the wicked scar running along his cheek glowing luminously in the brightly lit studio. The trademark hat with its dark green feathered plumes rested on the stringy grayish brown hair, and a little monkey sat on the shoulder of his billowing black greatcoat. His arms were in on outstretched position in preparation of holding a cutlass in one had with the blade across the other, and she had inadvertently backed into his dark embrace. Her internal "ick" alarms were going off, and she had long ago learned to listen to them. Letting out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, she stepped back and immediately felt better, grinning at her foolishness. Edging around the tall wax figure, she made her way further into the room and called out for her friend and co-worker.

Bethany came out from one of the side rooms carrying a leather tricorn hat and a prop cutlass, a smile of welcome on her round, cheerful face. A few inches shorter than Jo's own 5'4, Bethany Holcomb was in her early 40's and a little on the plump side, but her bright green eyes, sunny disposition, and wickedly sharp sense of humor made her quite popular, even among those outside their artistic crowd. The fact that the transplanted Brit had tremendous self confidence and knew how to make the most of her ample assets ensured that she didn't lack for male company whenever she desired it.

"Hello, Empress……I see you've finally brought the famous Captain round for the rest of himself. I've just about got him all ready for you, right over there." She motioned with the sword, and Jo turned to see a headless body standing at the back of the studio, dressed in the outfit she had become so used to seeing both in her waking hours and in her dreams. "Let's get him together then." They carefully unwrapped Jack's head and together lifted the wax bust onto the torso and there he was, her Captain, looking as if he could reach out and take her in his arms and have his wicked way with her.

"Oooooohhhhhhhh, 'e's a handsome devil, he is…though I thought he'd be taller." Bethany cooed, stepping back to admire the culmination of months of her friend's hard work. "_Bloody 'ell…..do they all have to say that?"_ Jo's startled eyes flew up and she looked around, finding the room empty except for her and Bethany, who continued on with no sign she had heard anything unusual. "Ah well," Bethany continued, grinning, "even an old dried up prune like me wouldn't say no to a tumble in the sack with Captain Jack Sparrow." At the mention of the word "tumble", Jo felt her face flame up and heard both her friend and the voice she alone could hear cackle with delight.

"I take it you've had a few thoughts along those lines yourself, eh? I knew you weren't the prude you try and pass yourself off to be." Bethany examined her friend closely, noticing the red eyes and overall appearance of fatigue. "Speaking o' tumbles, looks like you've been through a few of your own, love….care to share what the trouble is?"

Jo brushed the loose hair that was falling from her ponytail back out of her eyes and sighed. "I haven't been sleeping too well here lately…." "_Aye, that's the truth lass….nothing like having a pirate lover in your dreams to keep ye from your well deserved rest, although I don't recall hearing you complain about it at the time… _She gritted her teeth and continued _"_And I still haven't decided on a costume for the Opening Gala tomorrow night…"….._not to mention I'm still hearing voices noone else seems to hear from a pirate that doesn't exist…nooooo, no reason for me to be frazzled… _Jo sighed. "Got any suggestions?"

"You still haven't been able to talk Michael out of sticking you as co-host, hmmmm? I figured as much---vindictive pipsqueaky little bastard that he is. And talk about a stuffed shirt! He's talented, I'll grant you that…"she said, nodding toward the pirate in the corner, "but he acts like he owns the place and everyone in it." Bethany grumbled as she adjusted the shirt around Jack's neck before stepping back and giving it a thorough look. "No, I don't think this shirt will do after all. I wasn't so sure about it before, but now having seen him up close 'n personal, I'm certain it's got too many ruffles for our feathered namesake here. Can't have him looking more like a peacock than the pirate rogue we know and love, now can we?. Undress him for me while I fetch a replacement, would you, pet." Bethany hustled back into the store room as Jo untied the knot holding Jack's sash and began to unwind it.

_"Couldn't wait until bedtime to undress me again, could ya, luv?" _The low taunt caused her fingers to fumble, and she was a little rougher than she needed to be in removing the vest. _"Easy on the good, there, darlin'….." _The voice purred, and her eyes flew up to his face.It had to be just her imagination, but for a moment she could have sworn those chocolate brown kohl-rimmed eyes had been looking down at her with amusement. Shaking her head and telling herself to stop daydreaming, she stepped on a box and carefully slipped the too-frilly poet's shirt off over the Captain's head, and was surprised to see various scars, bullet wounds and even the famous tattoos allegedly sported by the famous pirate. The body manufacturer's at Madame T's had really gone out for authenticity on this project. "Too damn realistic….." Jo murmured aloud.

From behind her, Jo could hear Bethany rummaging amongst the clothes rack. "I suppose Michael told you to dress appropriately like he did the rest of us, in period costume?" Hearing Jo's affirmative answer, she snorted. "Hmph..….probably hoping you'll show up as a Tortuga whore so he could get his jollies by ogling your tits. Ah, here we go." Bethany came back into the studio, holding the plainer shirt triumphantly in her hand and sporting a grin from ear to ear. "Well, after we finish dressing the Captain 'ere, come on back to the stockroom….I've got a little something in mind for you that I think will put a right big kink in Lord Michael's wee winkie!"


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks you all so much for your kind reviews, and I hope you are liking this so far. I know many of you are eager to see the Captain come to life, and I am getting to that point, slowly but surely, so stay tuned! This chapter will give you a little more insight into some of the characters---as always, I do not own any characters from Disney's Pirates of the Carribean (I bet I am not alone when I say that I wish Johnny Depp was available on time share tho…hehehehe.blush) Anyway, here is chapter 5---enjoy, and please feel free to R & R if you would care to!_

**Chapter 5: In Hot Wax…..**

Halloween night….6:44 pm 

It was nearly time to "face the music", so to speak, and Jo was as nervous as a virgin bride on her wedding night. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that she would catch hell and possibly lose her job if she didn't assist with the unveiling of the new display, she would have been nowhere near the museum when it was open to the public, especially on a night like tonight.

Jo disliked crowds. _No, that is putting it rather mildly…..I am scared witless of crowds, especially crowds of people dressed in strange and sometimes freaky costumes…_a really bad phobia to have for a girl who worked in one of the worlds biggest casinos, for pity's sake. She had her parents to thank for her phobia, which she acquired at the tender age of 8 in the grand city of New Orleans. They had thought that it would be terrific fun for her to experience Mardi Gras, and she had thought it was great too, at least at first. The problem began when they failed to remain sober themselves and she had gotten separated from them in less time than it took to say "Fat Tuesday". Terrified and alone, she had tried to find them in the crowd of strangely dressed drunken celebrants, almost getting herself trampled in the process. The police finally found her after several hours, curled up in a ball in a doorway with her hands over her ears, dazed and confused. Ever since that time, large crowds petrified her, despite several years of therapy. Now she relied on her stash of Valium to get her through the times when she absolutely couldn't avoid stressful situations, like this evening

Opening her purse, she reached for the small bottle and made a mental note that it was time to get a refill, as there were only two pills left. She held the bottle in her hand, contemplating what to do. One might be enough, but there was a chance it would wear off halfway through the evening, whereas two would definitely loosen her up, perhaps too much. Throwing caution to the wind, she emptied the bottle and popped them into her mouth and followed it with a swig of water. That taken care of, she returned to putting the finishing touches on her costume.

Jo grinned at her reflection in the full length mirror of the ladies room, and chuckled at the reaction her choice of dress would bring. From the fat curls of her white wig to the buckles on her heeled shoes, she was definitely in period dress, so Michael didn't have grounds to fire her for insubordination. Turning, she picked up her accessories and left the restroom, stopping only briefly to drop her purse in the studio before heading to the exhibition hall.

"Jo, hold up, there's a love". Jo stopped and waited for Bethany, who was hurrying up to join her, a huge grin on her face. She looked entirely at home in her guise as a saucy tavern wench, her loose off-the-shoulder chemise displaying a tremendous amount of cleavage above the tightly laced black corset. Below that she wore a full length burgundy linen skirt, which was drawn up on the sides to display Bethany's petticoats and a fair amount of ankle above low heeled black slippers. A black ribbon was tied around her neck, and her normally short brown hair had been covered with a deep auburn long, curly wig topped with a linen mobcap. Her heavy application of eye, lip and cheek color made her ensemble complete. She looked as if she had been born to play the role of a 17th century barmaid.

Jo couldn't help but grin back as her friend stopped beside her, twirled around with skirts in hand and bobbed a curtsy before reaching out to link arms with her friend as they proceeded down the hallway. "How do I look?"

"You look positively, ahem, what's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah, … buyable! Yeah, that's the word!" Rather than being offended, Bethany laughed, giving her arm a squeeze. "Then I got it right then! I was going for the "come ravage me, please" look." I just 'ope I can get through the evening in this rig", she complained loudly, scratching underneath the wig. "This bloody thing itches like hell!"

Jo grimaced and resisted to urge to scratch her own head, which itched fiercely beneath the wigs confines. " Quit your bitchin', wench! You should consider yourself lucky! I've got a ton of hot hair tucked up under here, and at least you don't end up with a handful of baby powder every time you touch yours!"

"That's true….but it really completes the style I was going for when I put together that outfit. I have to admit, you look stunning…I can hardly wait to see Michael's reaction!"

"Well, I think your wait is just about over, 'cause he's heading this way now, and I don't think he looks too happy….." Putting her tri-cornered hat on her head, she awaited the dreaded confrontation with Valium-enhanced calmness.

**88888888888**

"I bet you think you're clever, don't you, Josie?" Michael sneered down at her, anger evident in his eyes, motioning Bethany to move along. He stood before her dressed as Captain Henry Morgan, complete with cape, wig, goatee and plumed hat, which at the moment was bobbing with each word he spit out. "You knew what I meant when I said to dress appropriately in period costume, and this" indicating the British Naval officer's uniform she was wearing "isn't what I had in mind!"

"Well, Michael, you have only yourself to blame for that…..you said appropriate period costume, but you didn't specify male or female, and as you can see, I am completely authentic…" Jo's level gaze met his evenly, as his face grew red with his growing fury. "So the only one who has a problem with my costume appears to be you. And by the way, my name's not Josie."

He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off to the side as other employees dressed as a band of pirates came by. "Don't think you're going to get away with this, Josie." He hissed, tightening his grip. "You have flaunted my authority for the last damn time. I'm going to have your ass for this."

Something inside Jo snapped, and instead of just brushing him off, she let him have it with both barrels. "You might, I repeat, might find some way to get my job, but my ass is something you're never going to have, Michael, and that's the one thing you can't stand. I've tried to be nice, but you just don't get it! I DON'T LIKE YOU! If you keep this up, I'm going to file suit against you for sexual harassment, so do us both a favor and go find someone else to piss off, ok?" With that, she shrugged her arm out of his grasp as he stared at her, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't think you know who you're dealing with, Josie…..and I don't take kindly to threats, especially from a two bit artist like you. You've just declared war, but it'll be me who wins." She tried to slap him, but he only blocked it and favored her with another of his famous smirks. "Attempting to physically assault your superior is grounds for dismissal, Miss Perry…I'm afraid I'll have to put that in your personnel file." He chuckled aloud, truly resembling the imfamous pirate he portrayed as Jo cursed and turned away, heading for the exhibit with him behind her, admiring her trim legs in the tight white uniform pants.


	6. Chapter 6

_Greetings all……well, ask and ye shall receive, so here's what you've been wanting for! I want to thank all of those who have been reviewing this story so far, and I appreciate all your kind words. I am also working on another story at present, which is one set just after POTC. More of a historical piece, but still full of fun, so be watching for it._

_P.S. Mlle. Fox,…….. you and my hubby are on the same wave-length….he thought my story somewhat resembled Mannequin also! LOL I have to admit, this story was in part inspired by that movie—I loved the song "Nothing's gonna stop us now!" by Starship from the film's soundtrack. _

_Now…..on to Chapter 6----ENJOY!_

**Chapter 6: Handle wax with care….**

_7:00 pm Halloween night_

"On behalf of the management and artists of Madame T-------'s Las Vegas, I would like to welcome you to tonight's debut of our latest display. Many months of hard work by our artisans have gone into creating what is sure to become one of Sin City's favorite attractions. To celebrate the great honor that Disney has bestowed on us, we invite you to join us in the Grand Ballroom for a mug or three of rum and a feast that even a pirate like Jack Sparrow, or should I say Captain Jack Sparrow, couldn't pass up." Michael Dixon was in his element, and the crowd seemed to be lapping it up as they whistled and clapped. "And now, without further ado, my assistant and co-host of tonight's gala, Miss Jocelyn Perry will, with military precision I might add," drawing a chuckle from the crowd "now unveil Vegas's own "Pirates of the Caribbean". With a nod to her, he swept his arm back dramatically as Jo pulled the cord, allowing the curtain to fall and the movie soundtrack to begin playing. There was a loud gasp of awe followed by thunderous applause.

Nearly the entire cast of the movie was there in the large display….in one corner of the huge display stood Will and Elizabeth, gazing into each other's eyes while they embraced atop the fort's stone wall. Over there was The Faithful Bride's taproom, where mangy looking pirates cavorted with ladies of ill-repute over mugs of rum. A distinguished looking Commander Norrington towered over the Governor of Port Royal, beside an stone archway where hung three skeletal pirates and a worn wooden sign.._Pirates, Ye Be Warned!. _And over in the other corner, looking evil enough to make even the bravest man shiver as he towered over the stone chest of Aztec gold, was Captain Barbosa, surrounded by several of his crew of the damned. And in the center of it all, in front of an impressive mural of the setting Caribbean sun, was 1/5 size replica of _The Black Pearl,_ with her famous captain at her helm.

As the crowd surged forward, Jo moved ahead of them and walked up the stairs to the quarterdeck to stand beside Jack. Looking at his profile, her heart gave a strange kind of flutter that could have been pride or dare she say or even think it, maybe even… love? She thought he had looked impressive before, but now, in his rightful place behind the wheel of his beloved ship, he looked invincible, a man above all other men. It took all of her willpower not to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face against that tattoo covered chest….it sure seemed like a good alternative to facing all those people at the party….

As the guests approached the display, she once again found Michael at her side. Grasping her elbow, he leaned close as if in a friendly conversation, when in reality, what he said could be considered anything but. "Don't think our little conversation from earlier is either over or forgotten, Josie. After the celebration is over, I want to see you in my office, where we will discuss your future with this company…that is, if you have one or not."

The voice she had grown accustomed to growled angrily in her ear. _Making threats are ye, you toad faced, limp-dicked son of a squint eyed, one legged, syphilis ridden whore!", _Seeing Jo's sudden flush, Michael stepped back with a satisfied look on his face, thinking he had struck a nerve, and observed her through hooded eyes with a predatory hunger. "Now, let's go and mingle with our guests, shall we?"

Jo met his gaze evenly but said nothing, even though inwardly she was trapped between the desire to laugh her ass off at the best verbal assault she had ever heard, and the fear that had her trembling like a leaf. It was time to mix and mingle, and that was the thing she dreaded the most. She had held up pretty good so far, but midnight was a long, long way away………

888888888888

_11:47 Halloween Night_

Jo stumbled and cursed softly as she pushed open the heavy doors to the POTC display. The lights had been lowered for the evening, but there were still dim spotlights over each display, giving off just enough light to see by. Leaning against the door, she let out a sigh and let herself sag against it and pulled of her hat and itchy wig. Throwing the detestable wig and hat aside, she slipped the awkward rifle complete with bayonet off her shoulder and gently laid it on the floor beside the abandoned hairpiece. No sense in giving the Devil…a.k.a. Michael Dixon, another reason to fire her by damaging expensive props.

That being done, she sat down Indian style and unscrewed the top off the bottle of Captain Morgan's that she had swiped from behind the open bar before heading to the calm serenity of the display. The heat of the straight spiced rum made her eyes water as she choked down the first few swallows, feeling the powerful drink burn all the way to the fluttering pit that was her stomach. God, how she had needed that drink…..the noise, the crowd, the costumes….tonight had brought it all back, the terror she had felt as a child lost at Mardi Gras, and even the double dose of Valium combined with several cups of rum punch had only taken the barest edge off her fear.

At first the party hadn't been too bad….she had spent the early part of the evening with Bethany, answering guests questions about the museum. It was later on, when the lights were lowered while the music volume was raised that she began feeling stressed. As the celebration wore on and the rum soaked party-goers got rowdier, her panic grew. When a fat, balding man dressed as Julius Caesar grabbed her butt, it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

Taking another healthy swig from the bottle, which went down much easier this time to her surprise, she rose to her feet and wandered around the display, humming that weird tune that seemed to always be in her head these days. "Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me…". She stopped in front of the evil Captain Barbosa and wrinkled her nose at him in distaste. "I like you about as much as I like your creator, you wanker…." She grinned at her creative use of one of Bethany's favorite phrases before sticking her tongue out at the looming figure. Another long swig, and the bottle was half empty. She turned and headed once again toward the steps leading to the helm of _The Pearl,_ only a slight sway in her feminine stride hinting at her inebriated state.

Sighing, she looked again at the figure of her Captain, as she referred to him in her mind, as he stood with his hands on the ships dark wheel. Still holding the bottle in her left hand, Jo approached the wheel and leaned against it, resting her head on her right arm as she looked up at the handsome face. For some strange reason, she felt as if he was in a listening pose, as if waiting for her to speak, so speak she did.

"You know, Jack…..part of me is so envious of you…..free to go wherever the winds will take you, taking what you want, and to hell with the consequences. You are very lucky, y'know….very few people have ever known that kind of freedom and power. Shit, look at the President, one of the most powerful people on the planet, leader of the free world, who can't even go to the bathroom without half a dozen secret service agents in attendance." She hoisted the bottle again for another swallow, and brought both arms to rest on the wheel, resting her cheek against the cool glass bottle and closed her eyes with a sigh. "There are times like tonight when I feel like I'm in a cage, and if I don't get out I'll go stark raving mad. I have the feeling you know what I'm talking about." She could feel the statues gaze on her through her closed lids, and she smiled softly.

"Silly, aren't I, talking to a wax statue……but like I said before, there's no one I can think of that I'd rather talk to right now…..I wish you were really real, because when I'm with you I feel safe, protected….special." She hiccupped and stood up, feeling just a bit lightheaded, but savoring the warm, fuzzy sensation that the alcohol had given her. She leaned forward, staring intently at the statue… "I only wish there were more men like you around…a girl could use a hero like you now and then." Tipping the bottle again, she drained it in one long swallow. Frowning with disappointment, she carefully setting the empty bottle down. "What the hell….no one will know, and I can tell my future grandkids that I kissed the best pirate in the whole Caribbean, no…" she stopped and corrected herself., raising her index and pinky finger in one of the Captain's most well known jestures . "In the whole Spanish Main!" Giggling softly at her own naughtiness, she stepped around the wheel and ducked under the extended arm into the narrow space between the figure and the ships steering. With a sigh, she reached up, placing one gentle hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder to hold herself up. "The world would be a much nicer place with you in it, Captain Jack Sparrow." Her eyes slid closed as she stood up on her tiptoes to place a tender kiss against his cool waxen lips.

What she didn't expect was the sudden return assault of those lips as the figure came to life, wrapping his arms around her back and waist, bringing her even closer to his now warm and fully breathing body. The alcohol and Valium combined had the pleasant affect of removing any inhibitions she may have had where Jack Sparrow was concerned, and she returned his kiss with great enthusiasm, sliding her fingers into the dark hair beneath the worn scarf. She felt him growl low in his throat as he deepened his kiss, and felt herself being bent back, his tongue demanding entrance and she granting it. She felt as though she were floating, or maybe the better description was soaring in a soft, warm cocoon, a place of supreme sweetness where time stood still, …….at least until the rational part of her mind kicked in.

Reality reared its ugly head, and putting her hands on his shoulders, she wrenched her mouth away from his and lay gasping in his arms as her own startled hazel eyes met his amused and still aroused chocolate brown gaze. It was he that broke the silence, which was good because she didn't think she was capable of speech. The stunned look on her face was absolutely priceless when the man of her dreams murmured his first real words to her….

"I appreciate the sweetness of your welcome, luv, but did you have to drink ALL the rum?"


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks for all the great reviews! This next chapter is a bit rough and deals with an attempted assault/rape sitaution, just to give you a bit of warning. I think the ending will surprise you...at least I hope it won't make you run and hide! Anyway...here we go again!_**  
**

**Chapter 7: Revenge**

"I've got to be dreaming…" Jo found her voice as she reached out and touched the lips that had so ardently kissed her own moments before, a look of wonder on her face. "Either that or I'm experiencing their weirdest Valium induced hallucination known to man…this can't be real."

Jack nipped at her hand briefly and grinned before raising her back to a standing position, the gold caps of his teeth gleaming in the dim light. He took her hand and put it to the warm skin of his chest beneath the linen shirt and vest, covering it with his own. She could feel his heart thumping steadily, and he chuckled aloud at her expression.

"Well, lass, you're definitely not sleeping, and since you kissed me and seein' as how I kissed you back, I would think that rules out my being a figment of your vivid imagination…" He reached out to steady her when she swayed dangerously and almost fell, an almost delirious grin on her face. Jack smirked and shook his head sadly…"Careful there, darlin'. It appears that my first order of business here is teaching a certain young woman how to hold her rum, ay?" She leaned up and kissed him again, a brief happy smooch, before wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. He took a moment to look around the room for the first time, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the figure of his former first mate leering from the corner. "I could stand a pint or 4 of rum meself, truth be told. Care to point the way, luv, or am I going to have to go off and drink all by me onesies, hmmm?" Silence. " Luv?" A soft groan was the only reply he got before she went completely limp and would have hit the deck if he hadn't caught her.

Jack rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his head as if to say, "Why me, Lord?" He was about to pick her up when a sudden noise from across the room stopped him cold. The door was swinging open and he was barely able to lean Jo down gently against the wheel and return to his original position behind the wheel before Michael Dixon entered the room.

Like the woman at Jack's feet, he had removed his hat and wig, and his dark hair was slicked back with sweat. Spotting Jo's red coat, he climbed the steps two at a time, knelt down and grabbed her arm, shaking her roughly. Jo moaned and slid down further and her limp arm knocked over the empty rum bottle, which rolled off the deck and smashed on the floor below.

"Drinking on the job, Josie? That's not gonna look good on your job resume, baby, not good at all.. " His eyes took on an evil glint as a plan formed in his devious mind. Standing, he nudged her with his boot and getting no response, grabbed her by the feet and began to pull her from behind the wheel, her head hitting the deck with a resounding thump. Once she was clear, he looked around to make sure he was alone before he picked her up and walked down the steps, strolling through the open doors into the replica of the Captain's cabin.

Tossing her roughly down on the hard foam mattress, Michael turned and removed his cape, gauntlets, sword belt and vest, throwing them carelessly onto the table. Rolling up his ruffled sleeves, he turned back to the unconscious woman on the bed, who was stirring restlessly on the replica embroidered counterpane. Reaching the bed, he climbed astride her and chuckled with enjoyment at seeing her wince. "I'm really, really going to enjoy this, you sanctimonious little bitch!" he growled as he grasped the red coat and eagerly tore it open, sending the shiny brass buttons every which way.

One of the flying missiles hit Jo in the face, which roused her enough to realize that something wasn't quite right. As her eyes tried to focus in the gloomy room, she recognized who was on top of her and uttered a soft cry of horror. She tried to roll him off her, but only managed to make him laugh at her feeble attempts. "Just lie quiet and keep your mouth shut, whore, and you just might keep your job---hell, you might even enjoy it!" He spit out, dealing her a vicious backhand to the face that left her reeling. Sliding a small dagger out of the sheath at his side, he sliced through her ruffled white shirt and concealing undergarments from neck to waist, leaving a long scratch that bled onto the pristine white shirt.

"Guess you were wrong when you said that your ass was the one thing I wasn't going to have, weren't you, Josie?" he whispered maliciously to the semiconscious woman beneath him. He was about to rip the shirt away when he was stopped short by a length of cold, sharp steel resting against his jugular.

"_I don't think you want to be doing that, mate…."_

Those were the last words he heard before a hard object made contact with the back of his head, sending him flying off the bed and into darkness.

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Tossing the replica pistol on the table, Jo's rescuer spied a bit of coiled rope and quickly tied her sadistic soon to be ex-boss up, kicking him a few times for good measure. That task completed, he returned to her side and gently turned her head to examine her cheek, which was already turning a deep purplish blue. When he saw the blood, his eyes darkened, and he leaned over to take a closer look. Jo chose that moment to come back to awareness, and lashed out in desperation before she realized it was him, whimpering in terror.

"Easy, m'luv...no worries, ay? He'll not be laying hands on you again, or me name's not Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" Jack caught the flying hands and patiently held them until she calmed somewhat, her eyes finally coming to rest on him, widening in shock. "You….it's not possible….. you're…."

"Real? Aye, I told you that earlier sweetheart, but the quantity of rum I estimate that you had consumed prior to the time when you made my acquaintance this evening appears to have had a detrimental affect on your short term memory." Having said all that in one breath, he smiled down at her bemused expression. "Something tells me that you believe explanations are in order, 'm I correct?" At her wincing nod, he sighed. "Well, Miss Perry, I would happily oblige you if indeed I knew the answer to this mystery meself 'ere, and sought out some other place of safety before that bastard," nodding to the prone man in the corner "comes round and causes a fuss. Can you walk?"

Jo sat up and winced at the pain in her head and face, and gasped when she felt the sting of the cut on her chest. Feeling more than a little dizzy and nauseated, she sat up and swung her legs over the bed. As the room spun, a thought crossed her mind and she gave Jack a weak grin. "I'll live. I have an apartment about a mile from here….we'll….take a cab." Reaching for Jack's arms to steady her, she stood up shakily. He started to help her to the door but she put up a hand on his arm."Wait…there's something I want to do first." Turning back, she walked slowly toward the man who had assaulted her and tormented her for months. "I've put up with this asshole's harassment for a year and a half….it's time for a little payback." With that, she used one foot to roll him on his back before applying her stocking-clad heel to his genitals. When he lay there gasping for air, his back arched in agony, she leaned over him with Jack's help, took a deep, trembling breath,…………….

...and promptly threw up all over the front of his fancy white shirt.

_(Jack's mental note to self: Never piss off an artist while she's bleeding or has a wicked hangover……)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Greetings fellow swabs 'n wenches! This chapter took me a little longer to write and is a bit different in that it is written from changing POV's. Anyhooo, I hope you folks enjoy this latest installment, and please R & R if you like. _

P.S. I am listening to the POTC Soundtrack as I write and am curious…… do any of you get inspired by it as well? My favorite by far is cut # 4, Will & Elizabeth, although it reminds me more of a certain inebriated captain…

Chapter 8: Culture Shock 

_(Jo's POV)_

_After leaving the contents of my stomach on the pitiful excuse of a man, I actually feel a bit better. As Jack and I step out onto the mock Pearl's deck, I can see him looking around, his sharp eyes missing nothing as they sweep the room. Avoiding the glass of my shattered rum bottle, we retrieve my shoes and make our way to the exit door. Before we leave, however, I turn to him, a couple of burning questions on my mind that I couldn't wait any longer to have answered._

"Captain, I know this is going to sound like an incredibly stupid question, but …what year do you think it is?"

I could see him pondering the question, his hand stroking his bearded goatee, and I almost laughed out loud despite my aching head as he pointed upward as if to say "A-ha!) did some calculations in the air, looked confused, wiped them away and tried again, before turning to me and shrugging. "I must confess, to me utter shame, that I have no idea as to what year of the good Lord it is, although from what I've seen so far," gesturing toward the recessed lighting and the exit sign above our heads 'that a considerable amount of time has passed. If you are inquiring as to when I was last truly aware of the passing of time, 'twas 1677. What sort of place is this, by the by….some sort of museum, eh?"

_I took a deep breath and took both his hands….this wasn't going to be easy. _"Jack, what I'm going to tell you is going to sound crazy…" _I was momentarily distracted by the circling of his thumbs over the sensitive areas between my thumb and index fingers, which sent shivers through me, which made him smile when he caught my involuntary reaction. "_but we're in a wax museum of famous people in Las Vegas, Nevada, and it's the year 2005."

(Jack's POV) 

"…it's the year 2005."

_I stopped my subtle erotic attentions to her hands (taught to me by a master of the gentle art of seduction in India, or was it Singapore?--- at the moment I can't quite recall), and tried to collect my thoughts. Things weren't making sense at all—mainly the fact that I was apparently now in the 21'st Century, but had no recollection of leaving the 17th. I recognized the young woman before me as being from the dreams I'd been having……bits of dreams of her, touching my face and hair and my shall we say, interesting thoughts about her, her speaking to me and my replies, ……but were they dreams or memories of real happenings? Had I, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, pirate extraordinaire, who had managed to escape from under the eyes of 7 agents of the East India Company and elude the hangman's noose no less than a dozen times in my 30-odd years on this planet, finally gone "o'er the deep edge"?_

_Not a chance…………_

_Now in my mind, that left two other options………either the lovely lady with the gentle hands an' no tolerance for liquor was as mad as I was, or she was tellin' the truth. Mind you, I'm not bragging when I say that I have more than a passing acquaintance with the female sex, and I have spent enough time in the company of the slyest bits o'muslin to be able to tell when they are attempting to pull the wool over my eyes. I have also learned to trust my own instincts, and those instincts, along with the evidence my own eyes can't deny, leads me to conclude that she wasn't being deceptive………_

_That left me with only one choice………she's telling the truth, which means life just got a whole lot more interesting for this scallywag………_

_Looking down into her worried face, I am suddenly reminded of the seriousness of the situation. I scarcely know this woman, except for those brief memories and these past few minutes……yet I can't help but feel like I am connected to her on some…what's the word…primal level. Seeing the livid bruises and the slightly glazed look that wasn't all due to alcohol, I was filled with the desire to run the cad who had dared hurt her through, but not before making a eunich of him. O'course, she had done a fairly good job of that already……_

I watch her face change as I start to smile, allowing my arm to creep up and over her shoulder as I turn us both to the door. She looks confused and unsure, and I hasten to reassure her.

"2005, you say? In that case, it's been over 300 years since I last enjoyed the taste o'rum, with the exception of the hint I detected from your own sweet mouth." _Damn me, it's bright in this hallway….like coming out of the cave on Isle de Muerta…._. "So what say you to the two of us making our way to this compartment of yours, where we can tend to your wounds and perhaps procure some edibles, and then you can direct your captain to the nearest tavern, ay?"

(Jo's POV)

_I have to admit, he took the news better than I thought he would. I was half prepared for him to bolt, and I was in no condition at the moment to chase after a raving lunatic. But for the 2nd time in one evening, Jack surprised me, putting his arm around me like we were the best of pals making plans for going to a ballgame or something. I showed him the way to the elevator, and felt his hand tighten on my shoulder tighten when the automatic doors slid silently shut. He cursed and lurched into the wall when the elevator moved, his eyes looking down at me accusingly. I murmured an apology, but couldn't keep the wry grin off my face, which he returned. We managed to get to my studio without meeting anyone, which is a good thing, since I haven't figured out a way to explain either him or my appearance which is, shall we say, somewhat worse for wear at the moment. _

_I step to the closet and retrieve my black t-shirt, sandals and capris, which I quickly pulled on after wrangling out of the uniform. I returned to the studio to find Jack standing over in the corner, examining with interest the pictures of himself, an expression I can't identify on his face. He apparently sensed my presence, for he spoke without turning. _

"_These likenesses….they're not paintings….it's almost like looking into a mirror."_

"It's what's called a photograph, Jack…..another of the wonders of our modern age."

He turned back to me, his arms crossed on his chest, and a small smile passed his lips as he took in my changes in apparel. "I can safely say that I do like one aspect of modern living…the scenery has definitely improved." I flushed as his wicked brown eyes traveled up and down me, finally coming to rest on my bruised face. A moment later he was in front of me, a keen look that I wasn't familiar in his flashing eyes. His hands were suddenly in my hair, searching for and finding the bobby pins holding it in its braided coronet. It didn't take him long to have it falling down around my shoulders, his clever fingers brushing it to one side so that it mostly hid my vivid cheek. As I stood there bemused, he also took the opportunity to sneak another searing kiss that left me tingling…

Placing my arm in his, he turned back to the door. "Now then, lass, I find myself in need of some sustenance, and eager to see this Las Vegas of yours. Lead the way, if you please…."

"Things are quite a bit, well, different than they were in your time, Jack…..and Vegas isn't your typical town….it's pretty wild compared to most places, and has the nickname "Sin City."

_Jack only laughed at my misgivings as we headed toward the hotel/casino lobby. "Sounds like the modern day equivalent of me very own Tortuga, and there's no locale on the planet that can match that hellhole for depravity and licentiousness. And you're forgetting one very important thing, luv….I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy, so bring on this Devil's playground!"_

_They rounded the corner and Jack stopped in his tracks, a look of total amazement on his face when he was faced with the bright lights, noise, and crowds of the casino. I nearly laughed aloud at his expression when he caught sight of the traffic whizzing by as we stepped outside onto the Sunset Strip. I couldn't keep the humor from my voice when I nudged him forward toward the line of cabs awaiting fares._

"Welcome to Vegas, Captain…"


	9. Chapter 9

_Greetings once again! I hope you all are enjoying this story so far…it has been interesting to write, and please feel free to drop a line to let me know if you find any major boo-boos…constructive criticism is always welcome!_

P.S. Thank you, Mangagirl4ever (a.k.a. my 14 year old daughter). You're a sweetie, and thank you for showing me this website, even though now you have to fight me for computer time…lol.

!GASP! Now you all know my deepest, darkest secret…I am a bored housewife and mom with a real fixation on a certain fictional pirate captain----- Oh, THE HUMANITY!

As always, I do not own any characters created by the Disney company….just the ones that I have come up with in my widdle brain.

_Hehehehehe……here's your next chapter, and it will also contain some character POV switches and some delicious sappy moments-------enjoy!_

Chapter 9: There's No Place Like Home 

(Jo's POV)

_I would have laughed out loud at the expression on Jack's face when we stepped outside into the warm Vegas evening, if it wasn't for the fact that my head was about ready to split in two.. Sin City was as loud and wild as ever, even more so as the streets were filled with folks celebrating Halloween Vegas style, and probably would be until dawn. _

_Grasping Jack's hand, I pulled him into a cab and gave the driver my address. Pulling a $20 bill from my wallet, I handed it to Jack and told him to give it to the driver when we arrived. I was suddenly very, very tired, and closing my eyes, I leaned into him, smiling when I found his heart was racing._

_I must have dozed off for a few minutes, because the next thing I remember is Jack helping me from the cab. When I stumbled, he swept me up in his arms. "Where next, m'dear?" he murmured, his breath warm in my ear. _

"Next you put me down_." I grumbled, digging my keys out of my purse._

_He stopped in his tracks and hearing him sigh, I looked up to find him giving me puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip pooched out in disappointment. "Here you've got the most handsome pirate in history willing to carry your poor wounded self to your domicile, where we shall hopefully quench our thirst, fill our bellies and satisfy our lust, not necessarily in that order, mind you, a position many women would kill to be in, and you want me to put you down?" I couldn't help but laugh softly, wincing at the pain that sliced through my skull._

'…_Women would kill to be in my shoes, hmmm? Methinks that ego needs to be cinched in a notch or two…' I thought to myself as a plan formed in my head. Sighing, I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned my aching head on his shoulder before I answered. "_Well, since you put it that way, how can a girl refuse? Carry on, sir knight, but don't say I didn't try to warn you……...I live on the 7th floor."

_(Jack's POV)_

"…_Bloody Hell………"_

_I hear her laugh softly and couldn't help but grin, even though she couldn't see it as her eyes had drifted shut. She didn't speak again as I climbed the stairs to the apartment, but I knew she was still awake, as her fingers were playing with the hair at the back of my neck. When we reached the right floor, I was breathing heavily, but in all honesty, not all of that was from the climb. I lowered her to her feet but left my arm around her for support while she opened the door. _

_Once we're inside, I look around at her living quarters and discover that while they are unfamiliar, they look quite comfortable. The walls are the color of cream, and the floor is covered with a very thick carpeting of a darker cream. Some sort of wide settee sits along one wall and is covered with large, fringed pillows, before which sits an oval low table made of cherry wood. On either side of the settee are smaller cherry wood tables on which sit the vases that lit up when Jo touched the wall as we entered. A tall cherry wood cabinet sits along the wall opposite the settee, with a large gray object that looks like it is made out of glass. I walk over and tap it with my finger, confirming my suspicions, and nearly leap out of my skin when a small spotted dog charges at me, barking and growling, from the short hallway. Jo immediately came to my rescue and introduced me to her furry savior. _

"_This little furbag is Nicodemus . Why don't you two get acquainted while I go scrounge us up something to eat? Be nice, now." With that, she headed toward an alcove off the far side of the room._

_I grinned at her retreating back as I replied. "_No worries, luv….I'm sure ol' Nick here and I will be good mates….animals and I have this special understanding, see?" _I reached down to pet him and nearly lost two fingers in the process. I showed him my teeth and growled back at him, and he backed down like the cowardly, mangy mutt that he was…_

"_I wasn't talking to the dog, Jack…"_

' _I wasn't talking to the dog, Jack.' I mimicked as I followed the dog into what appeared to be the kitchen, where he went over to his feeding dish and completely ignored me, which suited me fine. Seeing him eat, however, reminded me that my own stomach was feeling rather tight. There was a small table big enough for two at the far end of the room, and Jo was bent over halfway inside a large white storage unit. The position afforded me a wonderful view of her shapely bottom in the tan pants she wore, and suddenly, I wasn't that hungry any more…at least not for food……_

"_I don't suppose you know if you have any food allergies, do you?" She had apparently felt my presence, and glancing up, she flushed when she caught sight of my hungry gaze upon her as I stood leaning against the counter, my fingers laced across my waist. "And quit looking at me that way……I'm not on the menu." _

"_Pity, that…for if you were, you can be sure that I wouldn't stop feasting until every… last…delicious… bite of you was devoured…" I emphasized this point by touching my fingers to my lips one at a time as I spoke, pretending to lick them, locking her gaze with mine. I knew I had gotten under her skin when she flushed even more, licked her lips nervously as she lowered her gaze. _

"_Hungry, Jack?" There was a seductive purr in her voice she rose, a come hither gleam in her eye. This alone should have put me on my guard, but being out of my element as I was, it didn't. Therefore, I wasn't prepared for the handful of grapes that came hurling towards my face………_

_(Jo's POV)_

_My heart was located somewhere around the pit of my stomach when I glanced up to find Jack's hungry eyes on me. I was flattered by his attention, but at the same time for some reason I was annoyed. After a moment I realized why-----like so many of today's rock stars, he seemed to be under the impression that any woman he showed any desire in bedding should fall into his arms without protest. Well, Captain Jack Sparrow was about to get a lesson in Women's Lib, 21st Century style._

_Reaching into the storage drawer, I pulled out a handful of the first thing I came to. Holding the loose grapes casually in one hand behind my back as I rose, I used my most seductive voice when I purred the question. "_Hungry, Jack?", _I asked, before flinging the green fruits into his startled face before racing for the living room. _

"_Wench" he growled before he caught up with me, as I knew he would. He had grabbed me by the arms just as he had in my dream, only this time I was prepared. Catching him by the wrist, I managed to execute the most popular move taught in self defense classes. Jack lay on the dining room floor, looking stunned and at the same time amused, as I stood over him as he lay on the living room floor, smiling triumphantly. That lasted for about a second until I realized that I still had hold of his arm. He used my mistake to his advantage----he pulled, and I half lurched/half fell sideways, with my upper body coming to rest with my back against his stomach, his other arm breaking my fall. He wrapped his arm around my waist, preventing me from rising as he turned me so that I was facing him._

_He grasped my wrists tightly in one hand as he brushed my flying hair out of my face, an amused look on his face. "That was an interesting move, sweetheart, but if it was a tumble you wanted from me, all you had to do was ask…"_

_I gasped as his knowing chocolate brown eyes met my startled hazel ones. A whirling sensation filled my head as I realized that not only was he with me right now, an honest to goodness living, breathing human man, but apparently he had really been with me in my dreams as well. At that moment I did what any other real woman would have done in the exact same situation I was facing._

_I sent a huge thank you to whatever Supreme Being out there that had sent this man into my life. And then I promptly fainted._


	10. Chapter 10

_Greetings once again! Here's another chapter as promised……this one is Rated PG-13, as it contains a bit more of the heavier romantic situations our favorite captain likes to engage in …so if you don't like to see the softer side of CJS, ye be warned! For those of you that do, however, I think you'll like this read!_

_P.S. Spikez-babe91---no gold in his pockets, since he was dressed at the museum……but stay tuned, as that may change soon!_

_Lynseyax & Mrs. Sparrow----thanks for thinking I'm a cool mom! I am a huge fan of POTC and was thrilled to find a place like this where I could let my vivid imagination run wild. (Hey, I may be an old lady, but who can resist Jack Sparrow?)_

_Estelle & Mandy: Thank you for your wonderful comments—they're what keep me going!_

_As usual, I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its characters, and I am making no profit from this,----the only characters I own are the ones that I create in my own widdle mind. Enjoy!_

Chapter 10: Of Wounds and Healing 

Nicodemus's whine and the rhythmic thumping of his tail on the bed beside her were the first things she recognized as she awoke in the familiar confines of her bedroom, although she had no recollection of how she go there. Alarmed, she sat up and winced as the remains of a headache made her head swim for a moment. _"_What the…!" The cool cloth that had been resting on that same aching head fell off into her lap, and she picked it up and stared at it as if it would bite her. _I don't remember going to bed….._She looked down at her fully clothed self…_and I never sleep fully dressed…………_and then she remembered……

_Oh yeah……The gala…the toga wearing creep with the grabby hands….the rum…the crazy dreams about Jack……_"It's a miracle I even made it home last night. Remind me never to drink rum again, Nicci…" she murmured, giving the scruffy pooch a loving scratch behind the ears as she closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard.

"_Back among the living, I see." _The voice, tinged with amusement, came from the doorway where he leaned with arms crossed, a half eaten banana in one hand. He raised an eyebrow as both her eyes and mouth flew open, staring at him as if she had seen a ghost. He walked into the room, coming to a stop beside the antique replica canopy bed. "_What's the matter, m'sweet…you look like you've never seen a pirate before. Not going to faint again, are ye?" _He cocked his head slightly at he observed her bemused expression before continuing. "_For some reason unbeknownst to me, many females in my presence seem to suffer from a lack of oxygen, either by restrictive garments or by failing to inhale as you are doing right now, both activities which can lead to disastrous consequences. Relax and breathe, lass……I won't bite, at least not unless you ask me nicely. Twice." _

That brought out the desired response from Jo, who restarted her lungs with a deep shuddering breath followed by a shaky laugh. _"_I see you found your way around the kitchen…I have been eating on the road mostly and haven't done much marketing. Did you find anything else in there that was edible?" She asked hopefully as she watched Jack take another large bite and appeared to savor it.

"Indeed I did," he swallowed before answering. "but unfortunately, it started throwing grapes at me before I could sample it to see if it was as sweet as it looked." Tossing the empty peeling in a nearby trash basket, he sat down on the end of the bed, leaning back against the stout mahogany post. Reaching out with his left hand to give Nicodemus a scratch, he tipped his head back to scratch under his chin with the other when his own reflection startled him. He grinned wickedly, those golden teeth gleaming in the dimly lit bedroom. "_Mirrors, luv?" _he made a clacking sound with his tongue while shaking his head. "_It's as I thought then…beneath that lovely but logical minded shell lurks the soul of a wanton…and freeing wanton souls from their inhibitions is a specialty of yours truly." _ He brought both hands up to twirl the ends of his moustache, curving their ends upwards before raising his eyebrows, favoring her with a suggestive leer.

Jo couldn't help but smile and shake her head at his antics. "The bed is second hand and came this way, honest. I just haven't had time to take them down yet…" At Jack's "yeah, right" smirk, she grabbed her spare pillow and chucked it at his laughing face. He caught it with an "_obliged_", nodded and immediately tucked it behind his back, lacing his fingers behind his head and sighed as he leaned back, favoring her with another grin.

Jo's whimsical mood, however, quickly changed as dark thoughts crossed her mind. _"_Jack, at the museum….I thought it was a dream, but it wasn't….was it…." It came out more like a statement than a question, and Jack met her serious gaze with one of his own. "What happened with Michael…..if you hadn't been there to stop him, he would have…." Her voice trailed off as her eyes fell, the realization of all the previous night's events finally sinking in.

"_But it didn't happen, Jo, and he'll not trouble you again, e'en if I have to run him through." _She looked up to find him still watching her carefully, his expression one of deadly calm. She shivered suddenly and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and turning her uninjured cheek to rest upon them away from the room. She stared unseeingly at the mini blind covered window as the tears she had been trying to hold back began to fall silently, the only sound in the room the slow ticking of her bedside clock.

She felt the bed shift as he rose, and then he was beside her at the head of the bed, placing the pillow up behind his back as he sat against the headboard with a sigh. When he reached for her she flinched away, ashamed to have him see her crying. Sensing her strain, he instead began to run one ring covered hand through her hair, combing gently through the tangled silk…..and he waited. Just as it had on his namesake when he was a child, his patience and light touch had the desired effect. The wounded dove he wanted to care for came freely into his welcoming arms as the dam around her pent up emotions finally burst.

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A long while later, Jo gave a long shuddering sigh against Jack's now slightly soggy vest, and moved her head slightly so the buttons weren't cutting into her face. She felt drained, but it was a good feeling, and she smiled slightly as she listened to his heart beat, slow and steady beneath his linen shirt. His head, which had come to rest atop her own as he cuddled her against his side, raised up, and she could feel his gaze on her. Lifting her head, she reached across him to get to the tissue box on the nightstand, and his right arm, which had been resting on the bed, swept up to wrap around her as well. Startled, she looked down to find herself face to face with a highly amused pirate, who was eyeing her with suspicion.

"_Think you're through with the waterworks, then?"_ At her warm smile and nod, his smiling eyes expressed his approval as he tightened his hold on her. "_It's glad I am to hear it……that bastard isn't worth your tears, luv. Do you want to talk about it?" _When she shook her head and uttered a soft no, he looked at her appraisingly through his half closed eyes, his expression taking on a much different, almost hungry expression.

"_I agree, luv………there's much more interesting things we can be doing in this wonderous bed o' yours beside talking_…" She felt one hand, which had been making slow circles on her back, start inching lower as he used the other to pull her down to his waiting lips.

Jo broke away from the kiss to favor him with a mock scowl… "Jack Sparrow, are you attempting to seduce me?" He favored her with a slow, sexy smile that made her tingle all the way to her toes.

"_No, m'love…that was an attempt to kiss you. Now this.." _Jack rolled suddenly and pinned Jo beneath him, his arms holding hers down on either side of her head. His hair fell forward to form a curtain around his face, the ornaments tinkling softly as they brushed against her cheek_. "This is an attempt at seduction." _ He slowly started running kisses behind her ear and down her throat, smiling as he felt her pulse fluttering. When he nipped softly at her earlobe, she gasped and murmured "I thought you said you wouldn't bite unless I asked?" to which he murmured "Pirate!" and renewed his assault on her mouth, preventing further conversation. She whimpered softly when his roaming mouth tasted the evidence of her recent tears, and soothed it away. He finally leaned his head back with a reluctant sigh but didn't release her, observing her with a keen, curious gaze. Feeling him pull away, Jo's eyes fluttered open and met his. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw in them, because he relaxed slightly and kissed her again softly before attempting to roll off of her. But this time it was he who was surprised when she wrapped her fingers in his shirt and didn't let go.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that starting something that you don't intend finish isn't polite, Captain?" She spoke lightly, but the hunger in her eyes spoke louder than her words. Jack only grinned, brushing her hair back from her face tenderly before he replied.

"Well, we can't let it be said that Captain Jack Sparrow ever passed up an opportune moment……just promise me you won't swoon this time until after I ravish you, savvy?" A growled reply and a chuckle followed…then neither one of them said anything for quite a while……


	11. Chapter 11

My apologies to all of you for being slow in updating……I have been spending a lot of time flat on my back due to a herniated lumbar disc in my back, so I haven't been able to spend as much time writing as I would like. Also, I apologize for any grammar errors I make, as the painkillers make me really loopy at times…… I stumble around like my favorite pirate!

Now, the spoiler: This chapter, once again, does contain some romantic situations revealing the softer side of CJS and is rated PG-13, so if you don't like mushy stuff, feel free to skip the first segment(s). And never fear, there will be plenty of action coming soon!

_One of my delightful reviewers said she would love to see our Beloved Captain take on Vegas………ask and ye shall receive, so be watching for that soon! Also, I love reviews and constructive criticism, and plot suggestions are welcome as well, so what are you waiting for, hmmmm?_

_As always, I don't own any of the characters from Disney's POTC; just the ones I've come up with in my poor overworked widdle brain!_

Chapter 11: Reflections 

November 1st…..early afternoon….

(Inside Jack's Head……oooh, scary place, mate!)

……aaahhhhhh………lilacs……

I am pleased with myself for finally identify the scent that lingers on the soft pillows of Jo's bed. It's an odd feeling to a man accustomed to the sea, waking up in a bed that isn't rocking, unfamiliar but not altogether unpleasant. It is pleasant, however, to wake up with the knowledge that at least for one morning, I don't have to worry about being attacked by fellow pirates, a mutiny among the crew or the Royal Navy waiting to clap me in irons. It's also highly pleasant to wake up with me arm around a lovely woman.……

Looking down at her as she sleeps with her head on my chest, I reflect over the past hours and smile at the memory. Jo is indeed a lovely woman……clever, spirited, and as I can honestly attest to, passionate in nature. I had never tried to hide the fact that I was attracted to her, far from it, but I was half teasing when I pinned her beneath me on the bed and enthralled her with kisses. I knew she was traumatized from that bastard's assault, and I had felt the need to try and wipe away those memories with some tender wooing. I had no intentions of truly seducing her at that moment, not that it wasn't tempting, mind you……but wicked pirate though I am, I still had the decency not to take unfair advantage of a lady in distress. That's why her next actions took me somewhat by surprise.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that starting something that you don't intend finish isn't polite, Captain?" she had said, grasping my shirt and vest, refusing to allow me to leave her. Looking down at her, I saw the smoldering heat in her gaze as those hazel eyes looked into mine with a silent challenge. And I never could refuse a challenge…..

"Well, we can't let it be said that Captain Jack Sparrow ever passed up an opportune moment……just promise me you won't swoon this time until after I ravish you, savvy?" I chuckled, and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't slap me or tell me to sod off…

What followed was something special, an encounter that even a scurvy rum-addled man like yours truly would find it hard to forget. Now, you must understand this……I've bedded many women in my 30-odd years of existence, and for once the phrase "a woman in every port" is pretty accurate……more like a harem in every port to be precise. I love women, all shapes, sizes, and colors, and for the most part they seem to like me back, or put on a good show of it to get their hands on the contents of me coin purse. But there have been very few of these soiled doves that I've ever had more than a fleeting interest in……Scarlett was one, and Giselle another, but even those didn't last long or involve anything resembling a commitment.

To be honest, I've never had much association or much use for real ladies, even in my life before I turned to piracy. Tthe ones I have met, with the exception of a few fellow lady pirates and Mrs. William Turner, tend to shriek from fear, not delight upon seeing a pirate such as meself. So when Jo came into my life, or rather I appeared in hers, it was like nothing I'd ever encountered before.

She wasn't a shrinking virgin when I came to her bed, but neither was she experienced, like most of the women of my association. She was a fierce and hungry lover one moment, then almost painfully shy the next, blushing in the charming way that only the inexperienced do as I encouraged her gentle explorations. And most gratifying was her uninhibited responsiveness to my loving; finding a partner who genuinely delights in your touch without making demands in return is in itself is a treasure worth more than silver and gold……

Jo mumbles in her sleep and snuggles closer to me, and I smooth the hair back from her face. The livid blue-purple bruise on her cheek sends a flame of rage through me…..I am still furious with myself for not getting to her before Michael dealt her that blow and the others. I wish now that I had taken the time to geld the bastard while I had the chance, but that would have caused some trouble that I could ill afford. I catch the movement of my hand in the mirror, and can't help but smile again at the picture she and I present. We look entirely sated, like a pair of panthers resting after a successful hunt. I can't resist gently tugging the sheet down just a little, enough to reveal the sweet curve of the back of her spine and…what's this? I hadn't noticed it before, but in the mirror's reflection I can see that Jo has a tattoo, a delicate Celtic design by the look of it, situated in her lower back just above her sweet arse. Her skin is smooth as silk and pale as the finest porcelain, and my callused hand delights in that wide playground. I use the mirror as my guide as I trace the pattern on her back with one finger.

My delicate touch causes Jo to stir, and those hazel eyes glide open as she slowly wakes, favoring me with an earth shatteringly sweet smile that for some unknown reason sends my heart to somewhere in the vicinity of my knees. Her eyes held a glint of mischief, and I find myself yelling a second later when those luscious lips that I had come to delight in grinned wickedly before she leaned down and blew a long, wet, and loud raspberry against my taut and extremely ticklish belly.

Growling ferociously, I roll her over on her back and pin her arms once again as she giggles at my expression as I lean close to her ear and whisper. "Did you not know that it's dangerous to play such games with a pirate, Missy? A lass with a sweet mouth like yours might find themselves in danger of losing their virtue."

Lifting her head she reaches out and nips my earlobe, at which point I claim that naughty mouth for a deep kiss. When we come up for air, she smilingly replied to my question. "Aye, Captain…I was counting on it."

There's only one way I could respond to that challenge, and I did so. Some women are just too damn clever by far………………

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_(Much later that afternoon……)_

Jo was awakened by a sharp slap on her naked backside, and she sat up with a yelp and a glare at Jack, who was nearly completely dressed and grinning from ear to ear as he sat at the foot of the bed. Leaning up on one elbow, Jo grumbled and rubbed her offended posterior, scowling up at him as he rose, leaned down and ran a slightly grubby finger down her nose before flicking it lightly. "Tis nearly dark outside, and while I would like to think I could survive on love along, it behooves us to leave our little nest and go in search of something edible."

Jo sighed and sat up, wrapping the sheet around herself as she rose and headed for the bathroom. "Let me take a quick shower, and then we can take a cab so I can pick up my car." Jack heard the sound of water running and then a hissing sound that got him curious. Walking into the bathroom, he was entranced by the sight of warm pink flesh when it brushed up against the opaque shower curtain, when something else caught his eye. He stood in front of the commode and by process of elimination (pun intended) quickly figured out the purpose of the appliance. Spying the silver handle to the left of the porcelain appliance, he reached out and……..

"JAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!"

Jo's scream echoed in his head as she half leaped/half fell from the shower, shampoo running down her hair and murder in her eyes. Startled and sensing immediate danger to his person, Jack ran from the room as she slammed the door behind him, knowing now for certain that bathing was definitely not a safe activity to participate in.


	12. Chapter 12

_Greetings, friends, and I apologize for not updating sooner...a good friend of mine had a stroke and I haven't been much in the mood for writing here lately. But she's doing much better and so I finally got off my butt and set up the next installment. I know you are waiting to see what happens when Jack takes on Sin City, but that is coming up next chapter. Please be patient with me, as I am still doing research on Vegas attractions to make my descriptions more accurate and believable. Good things come to those who wait...heheheheh_

_As always, I don't own POTC or any of its characters, Just the ones I make up in my poor widdle brain. Enjoy! _

**Chapter 12: Jack Is Ready for Vegas… **

Jo emerged from the steamy bathroom a short time later, wearing a thick white bathrobe, drying her hair with a fluffy looking white towel. Jack turned from looking out the window and raised his hands in apology. "About the flushing thing, luv…I didn't know…"

Jo favored him with a wry glance and chuckled. "Chill, Jack. Its my fault for not explaining 20th century plumbing to a 17th century scalawag. You're lucky I'm not a vengeful woman though, or I'd be sorely tempted to start the dishwasher when you're in the shower." At his confused look, she grinned and explained. "Dishwashers use up the hot water, and that action would give new meaning to the phrase 'shiver me timbers', savvy?" At his brooding pout, she shook her head and sighed. Standing in the doorway, she stopped drying her hair and looked at him thoughtfully. Seeing her staring at him, he spread out his arms and looked himself over before looking back at her for an explanation.

"Something wrong, luv? You're looking at me in a way which suggests that you find something about me that isn't pleasing."

Jo had stepped into the nearby closet, and she leaned her head out, giving him a dark, seductive look.. "Trust me, Jack Sparrow….you are definitely pleasing. Now, be a nice pirate and take off your clothes." At her words, Jack face broke into a wide grin and he began to strip off his coat. " I love these modern women…so deliciously forward!" he murmured to himself as he divested himself of his coat, belt, sash and vest. Just then his stomach growled ferociously, and Jack hesitated. "Much as I would like to accommodate your hunger for my body, wench, I think it would be wise for both of us to sate our other appetites first….. what say you?"

"I say that sounds like an excellent plan, Jack, but we need to make you look a little….umm, less conspicuous? That outfit was fine last night, it being Halloween and all, but you'll attract a bit more attention than you'd like if you went out like that today." Jo returned from the closet holding a pair of white cotton draw string pants, a dark blue UCLA long sleeve t-shirt and deck shoes. "My brother accidentally left these here when he came to visit this spring, and I hadn't gotten around to sending them back yet. You're about the same size, so they should fit. After your shower, we'll need to do something about your hair…"she said, laying the clothes on the bed.

"Oi, don't be getting any ideas about me hair, love…cause it's stayin', and I never agreed to this showerin' bit."

Jo sighed. "Honestly, Jack….for a bloodthirsty pirate, you're awfully vain." She grinned at his scowl. "I wasn't planning on cutting it, snookums, just….straightening it up a bit. And if you're planning on spending any more time in that bed with me, you will bathe regularly. You know…" her voice dropped an octave as she stepped even closer, tracing a pattern on his chest with a single finger. "Studies show that pleasant smells have a direct influence on primal…sexual…attraction." She punctuated each word with a soft kiss on each cheek and one on his mouth as he watched her suspiciously. "And I would be far more inclined to acquiesce to your requests in that department if you are willing to submit to a few of mine." She turned back toward the closet but didn't make it two steps before she was caught by one arm, pulled into his embrace, dipped over his arm and kissed until her head swam. When he raised his head she opened her eyes to find him looking down at her smugly. "Interesting word, submit…..means to abide or comply, but also means to yield, surrender, or capitulate. While I'm not overly fond of the former, having you eager to perform the latter definition definitely appeals to me wicked soul, so I concede this battle to you, m'dear." Swiftly sweeping her up in his arms, he deposited a stunned Jo on the bed, grabbed the clothes and popped into the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him.

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A short while later, a freshly showered and clothed Jack stepped into the kitchen, a damp towel around his shoulders. Jo giggled when she saw the farmers tan line across his forehead from the longtime wearing of his scarf, and at the grumpy expression on his face. The scowl turned to a look of marked displeasure when he examined her khaki shorts and spaghetti strap tank top. "I 'ope you're not planning to go out in public like that. 'Tis indecent, even by Tortuga standards."

She motioned him to the chair and took the towel from his shoulders, giving his head a brisk rub to get as much water out of his hair as possible. Setting the towel on the counter, she walked around in front of him." Why, don't you like it?" she teased, stepping in front of him and doing a pirouette, at which he growled and grabbed her by the hips to pull her near. "Aye, I like it, as will most of the male population of this village, and I'm not one for sharin'." Pleased by his jealousy, Jo pulled free and stepped to the bathroom, coming back a moment later with hairbrushes and a small pair of scissors. Seeing the cutting implement, he grabbed her hand and asked her in a low growl. "An' what do you plan to be doing with those, m'dear?"

Jo favored him with a scowl of her own. "Just like I said, Jack, evening your hair up a bit." Laying the scissors down and grabbing a brush she stepped behind him and began working through the back of his hair, which to her surprise, was not rough as she had expected but rather fine. She smiled as he grumbled when she hit snarls in his dreads, but other than that he seemed to be enjoying the experience as much as she was. "Don't worry, I happen to like that mane of yours, but I do think the beads are a bit much. You will be much too recognizable while wearing them."

With that her hands were grasped in his and held firmly. "And why exactly is that, hmmmm? Why would a pirate like me be recognized, as everyone I knew has been dead for over 300 years. The Royal Navy would be a bit out of its jurisdiction, wouldn't you think?" He pulled her around until she half sat, half fell into his lap, and she couldn't avoid his eyes or his serious expression. He touched her cheek and spoke again, very calmly, almost too calmly. "I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling me, am I right?" Jo took a deep breath and nodded, looking to the side before she began.

"Jack, you saw the figures in the museum and you recognized them as people from your time, right? Well, in my time, those people are fictional characters from a movie called Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl." She glanced up to see those chocolate brown eyes flicker, but they didn't waver as he sat waiting for her to continue. "The pictures of you on the wall of my studio weren't of you, Jack…they're of an actor named Johnny Depp who played the role of Captain Jack Sparrow in that movie. When we go out, we'll have to be careful or people will mistake you for him and mob you." Jo sighed again. "I made a wax figure of his likeness for the museum, and somehow you came to life on Halloween night and here we are. More importantly, I don't know how it happened or if it will last or if I am simply hallucinating this whole thing. All I know is that I want it to be real."

Jack sighed and rested his chin on her shoulder. "I am real, Jo….make no mistake about it. I don't have an inkling of how I came to be here, pirates honor. I remember a sea battle and being in darkness, and then…your voice, talking to me in the darkness. It was like being asleep, but I was semi-aware of things happening around me, and whenever you were near, I could sense your emotions. I was as surprised as you when you kissed me and suddenly I was moving, breathing….alive." At this point he leaned up and pressed his forehead to hers so that they were eye to eye. "For whatever reason, Jo, I've been granted a second chance to live, and I'm not going to question who, why, or how long." With that, he kissed her gently before he smirked and said in his captain's voice. "Now, wench, finish messing with me tresses so we can go hunt down some victuals and do the town up proper…..I'm famished and in dire need of rum!"

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_(Back at the museum…)_

'……_damn that bitch….'_

Michael Dixon cursed at the headache that still throbbed painfully at the back of his head. He had spent the morning dealing with the police after the night security guard had heard his shouts. How he had wound up on the floor tied up and covered in vomit, he still had no idea, as police had found no hard evidence and no motive for the assault. He had used the pretext of hearing a noise and being assaulted while checking it out for his presence in the display, and as he was the assistant curator of the museum, noone had dared question his authority or explanation.

He sat back on his desk and ran through the events of the previous evening. The party had been breaking up, and he had been certain that no-one had seen him enter the display. He had been enjoying having a semi-conscious Jo beneath him at his mercy when an unknown assailant had knocked him cold and hog-tied him before covering him with filth. Some friend of Jo's perhaps, although the voice with it's Cockney accent had been hauntingly familiar.

He sat bolt upright in his chair suddenly, his face turning pale. "I must be mistaken…..or is it just my imagination?" He leaped from the chair despite his aching head and walked to the display, gaping when his saw the ships wheel in its usual place, sans its captain. "I'll be damned….she stole the Captain!" '…._her ass is really mine now…I'll have that slut arrested for this!…_he thought, grinning with sadistic glee, and then his smile became calculating…_unless…no..can't be…she brought him to life?……it is simply not possible….or is it?……'_

Michael strolled back to his office, where he sat in deep thought for quite a while. Coming to a decision he flipped through his private rolodex before picking up the phone and dialing a number. Leaning back in his chair he waited for a response, and when the man answered, he went right to the point. "Max, it's Michael…..I need to set up a meeting with Madame right away…" A small, cold smile crossed his face as he continued. "You could say it's a matter of life and death."


	13. Chapter 13

_Greetings all, and my apologies for not updating sooner. I got bitten by the nasty Writer's Block Bug, and having fought valiantly, finally conquered the beast…lol._

_I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to read and review my story thus far…I really do appreciate your comments and suggestions, and will try to work them into the story line if at all possible._

_(Author's note: I failed to add the Madame's full name in that last section, but it is NOT the Madame of Madame T's,…rather a Madame of Voodoo…and yes, there is a good possibility of some other famous figures from the museum coming to life---- **talk about a spoiler!** muahahahahahaha---stay tuned!)_

_As always, I do not own any of the Characters from Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean; just the story line and the characters I've made up in my poor widdle brain._

_Now, on to the newest installment!_

**Chapter 13: But is Vegas Ready For Jack?**

The sun was a fiery orange ball in the sky when Jack and Jo left the apartment and headed to the waiting cab. Neither of them spoke, but as they approached the famous strip, Jack's eyes once again got as big as saucers as he took it all in…the bright lights, the traffic jams, the people…the glamour that was Vegas.

They pulled up to the gated employee parking lot of The Venetian, and after paying the fare and keying the gate, she directed Jack toward her dark blue '87 mustang. Tossing the sunshade in the small backseat compartment, Jo fired her baby up, and grinned in amusement when Jack's eyebrows rose and all but disappeared into his borrowed black leather doo-rag. As they waited for the interior to cool down, she took a moment to compare the new Jack Sparrow to his previous form. '…._Pirate incognito, indeed……'_she thought with a sigh.

His hair, now free of its ornaments, braids and dreadlocks, was tied neatly back in a que which hung to a point midway between his shoulder blades. She smiled again when she recalled the way he had fussed when she had fought the comb through his hair. He was a remarkably handsome man, with his neatly trimmed mustache and goatee, although it had been a hard battle getting him to part with the twin beads on his chin. His eyes stood out from his face, lined with dark blue eyeliner which he had apparently pilfered from her makeup drawer. She noticed that he had also 'liberated' one of her favorite gold hoop earrings, which now resided in his left earlobe. Jo flushed when she recalled his reaction to her nipping that very same earlobe earlier, and licked her suddenly too dry lips. Jack, who had been watching her intently, recognized the signs of desire for what they were, and favored her with an appraising glance of his own through his hooded brown eyes.

"You look hungry, love……I'd say we'd better find those victuals fast, else I may not survive the night 'round you….you might turn cannibal and devour me inch by inch."

"I might at that….and I know just where I'd start, too…." Jo met his gaze directly before her gaze flickered to his lap and then back again, and she chuckled as he shifted in his seat. She leaned over towards his lap and nearly laughed aloud at his sudden intake of breath as he grasped her arm. She sighed and pushed his hand away, reaching for the seatbelt and tossing his own words back at him as she strapped him in. "Relax, Jack, I only bite when asked nicely…twice." She froze momentarily when his arms wrapped around her holding her against him as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the coconut scent of her shampoo. His breath was warm against her hair as he murmured a reply.

"That's one promise I intend to hold you to, m'dear." His words were low and his voice was smooth as 12 year old Scotch, and without warning he pulled her face up to claim a rough kiss. Even with the car's A/C going full blast, the interior was fast heating up, and after a few seconds Jo broke free and leaned back in the driver's seat, her lips slightly swollen and her expression slightly dazed. She glared at him as he relaxed against the seat, a look of smug satisfaction on his face as he examined his now clean fingernails. Reaching up, she selected a CD from the visor holder and slipped it into her player. She watched him start when the car's interior was suddenly flooded with the opening notes of Evanesence's "Bring Me To Life". She revved the mustang's powerful engine, and almost laughed at the suddenly nervous expression on her passenger's face. Jo looked over at him seductively as she stroked his thigh before reaching for the stick. "Sit back and enjoy the ride, love." She chuckled at the curse he uttered as she popped the clutch and smoked the tires as she cleared the gate and joined the fast moving traffic.

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The quiet house in the suburbs of Vegas gave no hint to the depravity that often took place behind the lace draped windows. Michael rang the bell and was swiftly ushered into the dark cool interior of the VouDoun practitioner's home. Moments later, the Madame herself appeared in the doorway and greeted him cooly.

"Your message said that you wished to speak to me on an urgent matter, Monsieur Dixon. I hope for your sake that you do not waste my time." Her Creole French accent would have been charming if it weren't for the veiled threat in her voice.

Michael bowed his head in acknowledgement of her formidable power and presence. "I would not have disturbed you if it were a trivial matter, Madame. I realize your time is valuable, but I knew of no one but you who has the knowledge and power to aid me in this endeavor." Accepting his flattery with a slight curving of her lips, she gestured him to proceed her into the living area. The darkened room was covered with unusual works of art---primitive masks, weapons, and dark, vivid paintings that Michael wasn't sure he wanted to examine closer. Seating himself in a chair across from the priestess, sat back and looked at the woman across from him. Her age was indeterminable; she could have been anywhere from 30 to 80 or more, her café-au-lait skin was smooth and wrinkle free. It was her eyes that showed her wisdom far beyond her apparent age. The geometric pattered silk caftan she wore elegantly graced her lithe figure beneath a mound of unique jewelry. She leaned back in her chair and tilted her head as she looked at him. "I am waiting, Monsieur."

Taking a deep breath, Michael began to speak. "Madame Benoit, strange things have occurred at the museum. This may sound mad, but I believe one of my fellow employees has brought a waxwork to life."

To his surprise, the VouDoun practitioner didn't act surprised at all, but favored him with a guarded stare instead. "Such has been known to happen from time to time, monsieur….was it the same one who left their mark on you, perhaps?"

Michael started and his hand went to the nail marks that Jo had left on his neck while they had tussled on the bed. "How did you know…."

The priestess merely sighed and shook her head at him as she leaned forward, her long, dangling earrings tinkling softly as she did so. "Your aura flared when you spoke of this employee, but I sense that there is more to this relationship than you are revealing. This employee, she is a woman you desire but who has rejected you, is she not?" At his affirmative grunt, the woman nodded, her elegant fingers forming a steeple as she contemplated the man before her as she spoke.

"And this….waxwork….that came to life…..he is a dashing hero, a knight in shining armor…a prince among thieves, yes?" At the last comment, she observed the slight widening of Michael's eyes.

Michael favored her with a wary glare before he replied. "You seem to know quite a bit about this situation, Madame. I take it you've been…involved…with this type of thing before?"

"You would be surprised the kind of thing a person in my line of work has seen, Monsieur…..not many of them pleasant, and some so terrifying as to send the strongest of men screaming into madness." She sat back suddenly before continuing. "What the object of your desire has done.." the priestess noticed his swift flush "is call to her a protector from another realm."

Michael looked at the woman and his voice was full of venom and disbelief. "What do you mean, another realm? The character is made up, a movie pirate for Chrissake!"

"Are you so narrow minded to think that we are alone in the universe, Monsieur? The realm of fantasy is indeed real…where do you believe our creativity comes from? What is imaginary here can and often does exist in one of the other realms, and all it takes is the proper equipment and ability to tap into those realms. Consciously or unconsciously, she apparently desired this pirate enough to wish him to life, and so to life he has come. And in answer to your next question, you can't send him back."

She smiled at his frustration before continuing. "Only the summoner has the power to cut the tie between the realms."

Michael Dixon sat back in his chair, momentarily defeated and deep in thought. The woman could almost see the whirring thoughts in his head, and watched cautiously as a strange smile crossed his face. He sat forward suddenly, his voice deadly serious as he addressed the priestess before him.

"One last question, Madame…..just what would it take to bring one of this pirate's friends through from the other side?"

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"Chicken… McNuggets, you say?"

"Yes, Jack…..now hurry up and eat them before they get cold. Here, try this sauce." Jo picked up the freshly cooked pressed poultry and dipped it into the sweet and spicy chipotle BBQ sauce and popped it into his mouth before he could protest. She grinned at his expression as the heat of the meat, the sauce or both combined caused his eyes to bulge and his hand to reach for his drink. "Little too much for you, pirate?" She chuckled as he shot her a glare and reached for the fries they shared on the tray between them. They sat at the back of the fast food restaurant with Jack's back to the door, and Jo hoped that his appearance wouldn't draw too much attention. There was little hope for that though, especially since he seemed determined to flirt with every female within sight.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to her own box of nuggets and dipped a nugget into her own open honey mustard sauce. She moaned with delight, closing her eyes briefly as the sweet and sour tangy sauce hit her tongue. '…_God, it's been forever since I had these……I've been such a nooge!….'_She felt a drop hit her chin, but before she could wipe it away, a rough finger swept it up. She opened her eyes to see Jack sucking the bit of sauce off his finger, his gaze hot upon her face. She flushed and swallowed hard as he chuckled, his gold plated grin wide as he reached for the two packets of honey on the tray and slipped them into his pocket.

"I always knew you were a saucy wench, and I intend to find out just how saucy."

Jo made a rude noise and threw a ketchup packet at him…but to his surprise, she didn't say no to his proposition… '_now THAT's interesting…' Jack thought, a flash of anticipation running through him._

They quickly finished their meal and although they had been cast several speculative glances, no one approached them to ask about Jack's resemblance to the famous Johnny Depp. Jo gave a deep sigh of both relief and satisfaction as they climbed back into the mustang. Jo pulled out of the parking lot and started singing along with Gwen Stefani and Eve's "Rich Girl" as they moved smoothly through the Vegas Traffic. She glanced over at Jack to find him staring at her, his teeth gleaming as he grinned at her through the car's dim interior.

"What? Have I still got sauce on my face or something?" She changed lanes and sped onward towards the shopping district. They needed to get some groceries and also some other clothes for Jack. Like the many casinos in Vegas, most of the stores in the area were also open 24 hrs, for which Jo was increasingly thankful.

"Not at the moment you don't, sweeting...I'm just constantly surprised by you is all." She cast another quick glance at him before she changed lanes, and was surprised by his thoughtful expression. "You look surprisingly fragile on first glance, but you're satin over steel." At her frown, he laughed softly. "I meant it as a compliment, Jo. You're unpredictable and fearless and full of life, and one of the most erotic and enchanting women I've ever encountered. Strange as it may sound, I've the feeling that everyday we spend together will be an adventure."

Jo didn't reply, but he sensed rather than saw the blush that crossed her features. "For once Jack, I think I have to agree with you."

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The pulled into the ATM Machine, where Jo withdrew $200.00 before heading to the nearby Wal-Mart Supercenter. She had to pull Jack along several times as he encountered aspects of modern technology that caught his eye, including the automatic doors. They purchased jeans and some hi-top tennis shoes, several shirts, socks, underwear and a few other needed items before heading to the grocery store.

He was amazed at the variety of both fresh and canned foods available, and spent an inordinate amount of time in front of the liquor display, especially the cardboard standup of Captain Morgan. He felt Jo and the shopping cart stop beside him and he turned toward her, noticing her face growing pale as she recognized the costume worn by her attacker. He wrapped his arm around her and felt her trembling, and thinking quickly he did his best to calm her. "Easy, love…..remember, I knew him in real life…..sharp dresser, not a bad bloke for a privateer, but reliable sources tell me he was a eunich."

Jo took several deep breaths and looked up at him with a shaky smile before reaching over and picking up two large bottles of the spiced rum. At his puppy dog look, she rolled her eyes and added a 3rd bottle to the cart . "People are going to think I'm a lush."..she grumbled as she grabbed him by the arm and moved toward the checkout.

"Mmmhhmmmm…..lush is one way to describe you, true…" Jack grinned wickedly, his hand sliding down her back to briefly squeeze her derriere. Jo yelped and slapped him, cussing as she shook her stinging palm and glaring at other market patrons as they stared. Jack merely grinned, his hand stroking the red mark on his face and said just low enough for Jo to hear…

"I deserved that…..but it was worth it….."

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**(a/n) coming up next time…..Jack sneaks off for a little adventure all by his onesies…….**


	14. Chapter 14

_Hello again! Please don't kill me for not updating sooner, but I've got half a dozen different projects running through my head and they are all fighting to get out at once!_

_The next two chapters are taking a bit longer to write, mainly because I had to make some major changes in the plot. After careful thought I concluded that my original plan for Jack in this chapter wasn't realistic—I wanted to have him win big at the Vegas poker tables, but then I realized it would be pretty much impossible to try and collect his winnings when he has no driver's license or I.D. for tax purposes! Sooo, I had to go with plan B. What's that, you ask? Well…guess you'll just have to read it and find out, ay? And, oh yeah, before I forget, this chapter does contain a bit of fluff….heheheheheh_

_As always, I don't own any of the characters from POTC or Disney, and I am not gaining any profit from this other than the satisfaction of entertaining others. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 14: Truth and Consequences**

It was after 10 when Jo and Jack entered the lobby of her apartment building, every arm occupied with sacks of groceries and other purchases they had made. Jack, of course, had insisted on taking the sack containing his precious rum.

They stopped to rest at the foot of the stairs, and Jack looked from the stairwell to the half-dozen sacks he was holding and back again, grimacing as he started climbing. Finding himself alone halfway up the first set of steps, he glanced back at Jo and found her hesitating at the bottom with a guilty look on her face. "What's the long face for, m'sweet?"

"Ummm, Jack…..there's something I need to tell you, but you have to promise me you won't blow a gasket, ok?" At his confused look, she sighed with exasperation. "Loose your cool? Go Postal? Freak out? Get angry enough to strangle me?" His expression could only be described as suspicious as he came back down the stairs.

"These sacks aren't exactly lightweight, darling….can't it wait til we get….". His voice trailed off as she shook her head, and she slowly backed away from him down the hallway to the right. He was confused….._what had he done that would cause her to back away from him in fear? _"Depends on what it is, luv, but offhand I can't think of anything you could tell me that would make me want to wring that swan like neck of yours. So tell Jack what the trouble is, ay?"

She backed around the dead end corner with him right behind her and the automatic sensor caused the double doors to slide open with a ding. The noise made her jump, and she raised her shoulders with a wobbly grin at his dumbfounded expression as he realized what it was she had failed to tell him.

"Ahhh, I think I might have failed to mention that this building has an elevator?"

She shrieked as he charged towards her, backing her into the lift with a growl, stopping only to set the rum down carefully before grabbing her and pinning her to the wall of the elevator. "You realize that I am going to make you pay a toll for each one of those gods-be-dammed steps I carried you up, wench? I damn near sprained me back trying to play the gallant, y'know."

Jo replied defensively, a gleam of challenge in her eyes. "Your back seemed perfectly fine to me when you were wrestling around on the bed, Sir Galahad. Besides, you needed to be taken down a peg or two, telling me I should be honored that you were willing to cart me around like so much baggage. So go ahead and do your worst, pirate….I won't beg for….." She was prevented from finishing her thought by a hungry kiss that sent her senses swimming, her eyes drifting shut as she melted into the sensation with a groan. '….._man-o-man, he sure knows how to kiss….'_

"….mercy…" That last word came out more as a pleading sigh than the defiant statement it was intended to be. Her eyes flew open at the sound of his rough chuckling, and his deep brown eyes danced with amusement as they met her own passion-darkened hazel gaze..

"Mercy is not a term that I'm familiar with when it comes to collecting kisses from seductive maids with wicked tongues. That's one, luv, and I fully intend to collect the other 148."

"One hundred and forty…aww, hell, you counted them?"

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A short while later, Jack and Jo were nesting on the couch watching a movie, Jo's back against his chest while she stroked Nicodemus, who was contentedly curled on her lap, with one hand. In the other she held a iced drink she called an S.O.B., consisting of equal parts of rum and pineapple juice. Jack had grimaced when she "spoiled a perfectly good mug-o-rum" while making the tropical concoction, preferring to drink his own straight out of the bottle, which rested on the floor beside the couch within easy reach.

Jo had decided after giving it a great deal of thought, that Jack needed to see the movie that had brought him into existence. He had found the concept of television amazing, and had been spellbound when she had first turned the set on. She found herself casting nervous glances in his direction as the movie progressed. To her surprise, he was fairly quiet during most of the film, smiling slightly in the comic moments and growling when Barbossa appeared on screen. During the marooning scene, his free hand had run teasingly along her neck as he watched himself flirt on-screen with Elizabeth, a strange emotion playing across his features in the dim light. She felt him tense during the fight scenes, and she saw him roll his eyes and shake his head near the end when Will and Liz declared their love for each other. Finally the movie ended and it was time to reap what she had sown.

Turning the tv off, Jo sat up and turned to look at her couch mate, who had leaned forward, elbows on knees, with the half empty bottle of rum dandling loosely in his hands, staring at a spot on the carpet as he was lost in thought. "Jack?"

As she spoke his name, he turned his head and looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. When he saw the uncertainty on her face, he smiled at her softly and took her hand in his with a sigh. "Sorry, m'gal….I'm still a bit taken aback, seeing meself portrayed on the telly-whatits. Millions o'people know me from watching this, you say?"

Jo nodded. "It was nominated for several awards, and was seen in just about every country in the world, Jack. Your face is recognized everywhere, Jack, and people even make up stories on their own about you to share with other fans. There's a sequel being filmed right now and talk of a 3rd movie, too-- you're everybody's favorite scallywag, so to speak."

Jack's grin widened. "Good thing this Depp fellow does such a good job portraying me wicked self, then, or I'd be forced to take him in hand, figuratively speaking o'course." He took another swig of rum and sat back with a satisfied belch, at which Jo rolled her eyes and rose from the couch with a stretch and yawn.

"Two Jack Sparrows? Egads, I don't think even a town like Vegas would survive a pair of clever scoundrels like you." She wriggled her nose playfully at his scowl. "Well, think I'll head for the shower. Promise not to flush while I'm gone?" Jack crossed his heart and glanced upwards over his praying hands, dodging her playful slap with a flashing gold smile. He swatted her rump playfully as she went past him into the hall and watched her disappear around the corner, the smile slowly sliding from his face. '_……damn, if I'm not careful, I might just lose my black heart to this woman…'_

Suddenly the apartment made him feel claustrophobic, and Jack knew he had to get some air or he'd go mad. He waited until he heard the water running, and then went to the kitchen for paper and pen. Scribbling a quick note, he propped it up against the half empty bottle of rum, then added a postscript to the note, grabbed up a couple of bills from the table, and headed out the door.

When Jo emerged from her shower half an hour later, the apartment was silent. She found the note that he had left, and her heart sank to her knees with worry when she read it.

_Dearest Jo,_

_Needed some air and time to think so have gone for a stroll about town_

_Be back in a day or so._

_Yours sincerely,  
Captain Jack Sparrow_

_P.S. Borrowed some money for rum. Just a little. _

_P.S.S. Be prepared to pay your toll when I return, savvy?_

_CJS_

"Damn you, Jack Sparrow!"

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**O.K. So I told a widdle fib…you'll get to hear what Jack does in Vegas in the next chapter, which I will be writing tonight and posting tomorrow. Sorry, there was just too much info to try and get it down in one long segment, so I used this chapter to set the scene. I will give you a little spoiler…Jack just might find out what its like to get the star treatment! (Please don't hate me!)**


	15. Chapter 15

_Greetings, faithful readers! Here is the chapter I've been promising you, and I apologize for not getting it posted sooner. I appreciate your patience—getting thoughts from inside my head onto the screen is hard to do sometimes!_

_To my wonderful reviewers: thank you so much for your words of encouragement—its what keeps me going, and I really appreciate you more than you'll ever know._

_As always, I don't own any of the characters from POTC and am not making any profit from this little story o'mine, and I have nothing of value so please don't sue me. The only thing I own are the characters that I make up in my poor widdle brain….oh yeah, and the plot line. And speaking of ownership, I call dibs on Johnny Depp if he ever becomes available……sigh_

_P.S. if my spelling is bad in this chapter, you can blame it on Captain Morgan……I made my hubby go buy me some spiced rum and pineapple juice, an' it's bloody good stuff I tell ya…hic…(Hey, what can I say…when I research a project, I really research a project!) Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter!_

**Chapter 15: A Case of Mistaken Identity….**

Stepping out of the apartment building into the warm Vegas night, Jack was suddenly struck with a wave of homesickness for his beloved Pearl. He missed the quiet sounds of his ship on the open sea and the clear night sky of the Caribbean, and he still wasn't quite used to the hustle and bustle of this big city he found himself in. Part of him felt guilty for leaving Jo alone, but Jack was unnerved by the feelings he had for her, and needed a little space to clear his head. …_After all, _he thought to himself …_a fella's got a right to have himself a gadabout every now and then_. With that thought in mind, he headed out on foot towards the glittering lights of the strip.

A short while later he managed to flag down an open cab, and slipping into the back seat, he flashed the driver a grin of thanks. The driver glanced at him with tired eyes, asking him the usual "Where to, mister?" before doing a double take, raising his eyebrows when he recognized his passenger.

"If you could take me to an establishment where a pirate like meself could find himself a bit o'rum and a chance to increase the weight of m'coin purse, I'd be much obliged, mate. And it's Captain Sparrow, if you please."

The cabbie flashed him a grin of his own. "Right, Captain…..y'know, I think I know just the place."

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A short while later, Jack was standing at the edge of the crowd watching a crowd of voluptuous beauties wearing scandalously tight outfits as they ran their long, lacquered nails over a bare-chested pirate "prisoner". The action was taking place on a mock up of a frigate ship in a large pool in front of the large casino, and the people around him seemed to be enjoying this flashy, somewhat erotic show. Jack had to admit that there was a time when he wouldn't have minded being in the prisoner's shoes, in a more private setting of course. At that moment, however, the evening's entertainment, although very entertaining, made him feel like a voyeur. Even as his body subtly responded to the scantily clad dancers, there was only one raven-haired Siren that filled his mind…..

Gritting his teeth as the too-realistic cannons fired again, he turned and headed to the entrance of the casino, not noticing the stunned face of a security agent who spoke rapidly into his cellphone/radio. As Jack stepped through the doors into the air conditioned comfort of the Treasure Island Casino, now called TI, he was hit with another blast of light and sound, this time from the huge slot-machine filled gaming floor. Before he could do more than wince at the onslaught, he was greeted heartily by a tall dark- haired gentleman in a suit, who was trailed by a pretty and capable looking blonde woman holding a leather binder.

"Johnny, damn, its good to see you, though I didn't expect you to be back this soon. Thought you were filming in the Bahamas? You should have called—we'd have sent a limo to pick you up!"

The man in front of him was obviously awaiting a reply, so Jack glibly popped off the first thing that came to mind. "You know how it is, mate…figured I'd slip away for a bit on me onesies, get the taste of sand out of me mouth with a bit o'rum, take in a game or two of chance..." Jack's eyes washed over a curvaceous cocktail waitress who winked at him as she sashayed by on incredibly high heels.. "…an maybe try to commandeer one o' the lovely little galleons for a midnite sail."

The man chuckled and rested his arm in a familiar gesture across Jack's back with a grin. " The first two can be easily arranged, my good man, but as far as the third, I'll leave the hunting up to you. Not that you'd ever have difficulty in that department---Don't think there's many women in here under the age of 80 who would be able to resist Johnny Depp."

Jack suddenly heard echoes of previous conversations he'd had with Jo…….(((("The pictures of you on the wall of my studio weren't of you, Jack…they're of an actor named Johnny Depp"…….. "Your face is recognized everywhere, Jack"… "you're everyone's favorite scallywag"…)))).

_So….Jo was right when she said my face was well known….that's very interesting._ For a moment he felt guilty about what he was about to do, but his sense for self-preservation and desire for instant gratification quickly overrode the tiny voice of his conscience. Meeting the man's face with a bravado only he could muster, he replied with confidence. "That's Captain Jack Sparrow, if you don't mind, and I was wondering if you might have some accommodations available for a pernicious pirate like yours truly? My visit here was rather spur of the moment, so to speak, so I would appreciate it if you could direct me to where I could find more..appropriate clothing suitable for a sophisticated man like meself."

The man just laughed. "Keeping in character, ay, Captain? Got to hand it to you, you are definitely tops in your chosen profession. Your usual suite is occupied, so we've bumped you up to the Admiral's Suite. I'll send Sandra up to assist you in the shops, which are at your disposal. Shall I charge it to your usual card?" At Jack's nod, the man patted him on the shoulder once more. "Great seeing you, John—I mean, Captain---if you need anything, don't hesitate to give me or Jenny a call." With a wave and a nod, the man turned and headed toward the stairwell leading to the high roller sanctuary.

The young woman, Jenny he presumed, cleared her throat and favored him with a smile. "If you're ready, I'll escort you to your suite and introduce you to your concierge." With a gesture, she guided him to the glass elevator, and Jack had to close his eyes and bite his lip as they shot skyward. The keycard she used admitted them into a gorgeous suite done in cream and brown with floor to ceiling windows allowing guests a fantastic view of the strip. The thick carpeting sank under every step, and walking towards those windows Jack could only smile and think to himself..._Life Is Good._

Two hours later, Jack had been introduced to Robert, his butler, and was relaxing in the jacuzzi tub with a bottle of rum in one hand and a platter of Chicken McNuggets at his other. A fluffy bathrobe hung on the same rack as his heated bath towels, and his newly purchased buttery soft leather pants and a silk shirt awaited him on the king size bed. '_I do believe I could get used to this…fame…' _he smiled to himself_. ' Call me a sensualist or what you will, but I like comforts like clean sheets, hot fresh meals and the occasional hot bath…' H_e sighed and sank lower in the water, letting the heated pressurized water sooth his tired shoulders and back. _Wouldn't mind having one of these "hot tubs" aboard me Black Pearl…ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Hmmmmmph…t'would be hard to keep Anamarie from doing her wash in it tho……bloody female…_

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It was 2 am, but the casino floor was just as full as it had been earlier when Jack stepped out of the elevator and headed to the desk where Jenny was waiting. She escorted him to the high roller tables and after signing a few slips of paper, he was ready to try his luck at the blackjack table. He was tickled when Jenny informed him that the casino was giving him $30,000 to play on, "staking him" was the term she used, so he didn't feel so bad about assuming this Johnny Depp's identity. With that out of his mind, he settled back and prepared to let Lady Luck shine down on him once more.

He lost the first several hands, and had begun to think that his luck at the gaming tables had been lost, when suddenly the game began to go his way. The tide went up and down, but when he finally called it quits 3 hours later, Jack backed away from the tables with a big smile and a slip for $125,000 in his pocket.

As he left the high roller pit, he was suddenly mobbed by a group of women who had apparently heard of his presence from unknown sources. After shaking hands, signing autographs, and wiping away about a dozen different shades of lipstick from his now rosy cheeks, security finally showed up and allowed Jack to take his now rich but sore from being squeezed multiple times derriere back to his suite for another well deserved rum and soak.

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**( So…..who is the mysterious celebrity that Jack runs into in the hotel the next morning? I have the scene written, but I am willing to change it if you would like to send me a suggestion on who you'd like Jack to meet in Vegas. If you have an idea, drop me a line and I might just take you up on it!)**


	16. Chapter 16

_Greetings, friends! Sorry that I've kept you all hanging so long waiting for this update, but after much consideration I decided I wasn't happy with the way the chapter was written so I decided to do a rewrite. I also apologize for bouncing around time wise, but it can't be helped. I hope you'll find this chapter worth the wait! _

_As usual, I don't own any of the characters from POTC; the only things I own are Jo and the current plot line, which comes from somewhere in the depths of my poor widdle overburdened brain._

_Now, on to the next chapter, and oh, before you go, if you feel like it please drop a line to let me know what you think! All comments/constructive criticisms are very welcome here!  
_

**Chapter 16: Strange Comings and Goings**

_2:00 am……_

The scraping of expensive leather shoes on the concrete floor and the whisper of silk competed against the hum of the building's massive air conditioners as the sounds echoed in the otherwise quiet wax display. A passerby who happened to notice the strange group entering the museum would have assumed that it was a Royal Personage from a 3rd world country and their entourage getting a private tour of the famous waxworks, and they would have been right in one respect. The central figure in the group was indeed royalty…..a Queen of the Dark Arts, to be specific.

Madame Benoit, dressed even more flamboyantly than when he had first spoken to her, was accompanied by two muscular, silent men in dark suits who never left her side from the moment they had left her home. The fourth man in their party was a slender, grizzled older man whom she had introduced to him simply as "her associate, Remy." The man was dressed casually in comfortable linen pants, a pale blue cotton shirt and a Panama hat, none of which could diminish the aura of power which was almost visible to the naked eye. He carried a dark brown leather case containing their "working tools", and the thought of their use this night sent a shiver of both apprehension and anticipation down Michael's spine.

The group silently approached the towering figure in the corner of the new display, and Remy gestured to one of the bodyguards, who stepped forward to hold the case while he opened it. While he slipped into a robe, Madame Benoit took the opportunity to speak to Michael.

"You do realize that once this entity is called forth, you will not have absolute control over its actions, monsieur? The blood you will shed will bind you to this creature and he will be incapable of harming you, but neither will he be obligated to serve you. It would be wise of you to try and make a pact with this being, if you have anything of value to offer him for his services."

Michael smiled smugly at the priestess and chuckled, the viciousness of the sound magnified by the height of the room. "Oh, have no fears on that account, Madame…..I think I have the one thing that our good Captain here would have a hard time passing up."

"And that is?" He turned to her and for a moment was almost lost in the inky black depths of the priestesses eyes.

"Revenge."

Jo sat brooding on the couch in her too-quiet living room, absent-mindedly stroking Nicodemus who was sprawled on his back beside her. _Why did he leave so suddenly, and without even waiting around to tell me in person? Was is something I did? Something I said? Maybe I shouldn't have shown him the movie………or maybe…now that he's had me he doesn't want me anymore and is trying to make me mad so I'll throw him out……_

Clutching one of the couch's soft throw pillows to her chest, she lay down on the couch, tears of worry and self doubt making a shiny silent river on her cheek, to be quickly licked away by the scratchy tongue of her loyal, furry companion.

The scene was finally set, and all was ready for the ceremony to begin.

The lid of the large chest of phony Aztec gold was set up as an alter with candles, bunches of herbs, various other strange items and a large wooden bowl, the contents of which Michael preferred to remain ignorant of. Michael had to admit he had been rather surprised when one of the items that Remy had removed from the brown case had been a tape recorder. The sound of primal drumming echoed in the room, and Remy had chuckled at Michael's expression. "Technology is a wonderful thing, no?"

They assumed their positions, and as the older man and the priestess began the ritual, Michael allowed his thoughts to wander. In a few moments he would be in the presence of a being that logically should not exist except in a writer's vivid imagination, and he would be the one helping bring him into reality. For a moment he allowed himself to think about Jack Sparrow and how his interference had prevented him from ravishing Jo the previous evening, and his gut clenched from his barely suppressed rage. _'Hope you enjoyed your little tryst with your captain, Josie……'cause he's got a date with a devil of my own making that he won't be coming back from…alive, that is…..'he thought to himself, an evil grin ghosting across his face at the thought.  
_

His attention was drawn back to the ceremony as the chanting grew louder and more intense. The temperature in the room noticeably dropped about 10 degrees, and there was a sudden tension in the air reminiscent of the last seconds before the guillotine's blade descent or the trapdoor falling at a public execution. At that moment, Remy turned and swifly drew Michael forward. Without breaking his chant, he drew Michaels left hand forward and picking up a tool from the makeshift altar, he held the imprisoned hand high above his head. Michael let out a hiss of pain as the older man swifly slashed his hand with the wickedly sharp dagger, and watched mesmerized as a gleaming rivulet of blood, his blood, dripped down into the bowl below. His eyes widened as the towering figure before them began to glow faintly as the chanting reached a fever pitch. Just when he felt he would go mad from the suspense, he felt what he could only describe as a massive tugging sensation, and the chanting suddenly ended. Remy and Madame Benoit stepped back, looking totally exhausted but pleased, leaving the museum's assistant director all alone before the altar, looking up into the gleaming black eyes of the Black Pearl's furious former captain.

"You'd best have a good explanation for pullin' me from my ship, boy.' The gravelly voice was enough to send a chill down Michael's spine as the fearsome pirate moved his cutlass to rest in the center of his chest. "It won't bother me conscience none to remove your liver and stuff it down your gullet."

Michael didn't hesitate before answering his 'guest'. "Captain Barbossa, it's an honor to finally meet you. I apologize for the abruptness of your arrival, but a situation has developed that only a man of your'---at this point Michael's thin lips formed an evil grin... "unique talent and experience could possibly handle. Pax, Captain." Michael pushed aside the cutlass blade as if it were a plastic toy light sabre. " The spell that brought you here has tied us together, and should you try to harm me, you'll find that there will be serious….repercussions." Michael noticed almost as an afterthought that the priestess and her companions had vanished almost as if by magic, leaving behind only the scent of blood and incense.

Barbossa growled out a curse and sheathed the cutlass, stepping down off the display and moving with remarkable grace for one so tall. He stopped in front of Michael, his eyes sweeping the quiet room before settling his dark gaze back on Michael. "Ye haven't answered me question, cur, and you'd better hope I like your answer or you'll be shark bait, spell or no."

_'Damn…I can see how he kept his crew in line….he can't hurt me, and yet he intimidates the piss out of me…_' "The situation involves someone whom you have had quite a history with, Captain Barbossa…an impudent fellow who goes by the name of Captain Jack Sparrow."

Before he could take his next breath, Michael found himself hauled up by the lapels of his imported Italian suit, dangling inches away from those inky black spheres which danced with unearthly flames of fury as he hissed out three short words.

_"Where…is…he…?"_

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Later that day…approximately 11 am…..

After several hours of restful sleep in his luxury suite, Captain Jack Sparrow had just cashed in his slip and was preparing to leave with his winnings and new clothes in a shoulder bag when there was a commotion at the casino entrance. Jack observed a long while Hummer limousine pulling up outside and gawked as a very familiar-looking man stepped out, only to be immediately surrounded by autograph hounds and paparazzi. With the help of his own bodyguards and hotel security, Jack's slender doppelganger was quickly escorted into the casino entryway just as the real thing was walking out. Upon seeing Jack, the man did a quick double take and told the person he was chatting with on his cell phone that he would call them back. The two men gave each other a careful once-over and both broke into eerily similar grins. Jack took the initiative and spoke first,

"So I'd be guessing that you are the handsome devil that all these folks hereabouts keep mistakin' me for, ay?"

Johnny whistled and shook his head, a dumbfounded grin crossing his face as he replied, extending his hand. "Johnny Depp, in the flesh. I've got to tell you, but hang me, you're the best dead ringer for Jack Sparrow that I've ever come across, and trust me, I've seen plenty."

Jack shook his hand and smiled warily. "That's Captain Sparrow, if you don't mind, and beggin' your pardon, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't say 'dead' and 'hang' in the same sentence around me. Makes me nervous. Bad memories. Not good." At this point, Jack held his hands up and wiggled his fingers in a nervous manner.

Johnny broke into laughter and grinned wider still. "This is fantastic. You've even got me voice down" he said, dropping into character for a moment. "This is so unreal it's almost scary. Can I buy you a drink? Maybe we could round up a couple of friendly females for a bit o' fun later. That would be a trip."

Jack smiled regretfully before declining. Much as he'd like to stay and chat with his lookalike, he figured he'd best be getting back to Jo before she came hunting him. "Appreciate the offer, mate, but I've got a certain lady that I need to get back to wooing." Glancing up, he spotted the familiar form of the guest coordinator heading their way, a very strange, starled look upon his face. Realizing that he needed to make a quick getaway, he grinned back at Johnny and couldn't resist one last comment as he headed toward the exit. "Besides, lad, t'wouldn't be fitting for me to compete with you over the ladies…that and m'poor ego couldn't take the beatin' if ya won!" Giving Johnny a jaunty salute, he slipped from the casino and disappeared into the milling crowd, leaving the actor to deal with a very confused VIP Host.

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11 am at Jo's apartment……

Jo literally flew up off the couch when someone knocked at the door, startling Nicodemus into a barking frenzy. She threw open the locks, and began her tirade before she even got the door partway open. "Jack, where the hell have you…" she spat, then gasped. "Oh, God, I'm sorry Bethany, I thought you were someone else….please, come in. I was…expecting..."

"You were expecting Captain Jack Sparrow, perhaps?"

"Wha…how did you...….you KNOW?" Jo closed the door behind her guest and followed her into the living room where she landed back on the couch with a thump, clutching her reclaimed pillow to her chest.

Bethany settled herself on the couch beside Jo before answering, petting the now ecstatic Nicodemus on his soft belly. "Well, considering that the wax figure you spent months working on disappeared from the museum, the recent disturbances in the ley lines around Vegas, and the fact that you have the aura of a well-satiated feline in heat about you, the only logical conclusion is that your paraffin stud muffin has suddenly gained a pulse. Am I close?"

All Jo could do is blush and nod dumbly at her friend, not fully comprehending her words at first. "He's alive and kicking, all right, at least until I get my hands on him again, at which time I might just take him out, and I'm not talking dinner and a movie! He took off last night while I was in the shower…his note said he had to 'clear his head' and 'do some thinking', and I'm worried half to death about him." Jo growled in frustration and pounded the pillow in her lap. And then the words sank in finally, and she gave her friend a wondering look. " Did you say…ley lines? Isn't that a term used in fantasy books when they talk about .." her voice trailed off , and looked at her friend in confusion.

Bethany chuckled and grinned at her friend. "Magic? Yes, indeed it is and that is the term I used. Even low level mages like myself can see them and notice fluxes in the flow of magic. The ones near here are powerful strong…makes me glad that I'm not strong enough to use them." She smiled even wider when she saw the look of utter disbelief on Jo's face, and laughed. "Come on, Jo…This is VEGAS! Don't tell me you thought that EVERYTHING you see on stages across this town was merely illusion?"

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**TBC**

**(A/N: Just a few quick things I want to mention. First off, I have no personal knowledge of Voodoo, so I just used my imagination to try and create what it would be like to the best of my ability. Also, regarding Jack and Johnny's conversations and the invitation to go catting around…I do know that Johnny Depp is married(at least he was last time I heard!) and has children, and I am by no means attempting to slander him and/or make him out to be an adulterer. So, that being said, if JD should somehow manage to read this, I apologize if I offended you and please don't sue me because I'm really, really poor.….t'was done only for sake of the story!)**

**Coming up next----Will the man from Jack's past destroy any chance for him and Jo's future together? See you next time!**


	17. Chapter 17

_Whoops! Time has flown by, and I didn't realize it has been two weeks since I updated (Baaaad Soli, **smacks herself in da head!** ) Of the three story lines I have going right now, this one is proving to be the most difficult to write, as I haven't quite gotten the plot completely figured out yet, so please be patient!_

_I am taking a few creative liberties with my Hector Barbossa, since none of the bio information I could find listed his height. Also, my apologies for not getting my facts strait concerning Mr. Depp…I THOUGHT I had read somewhere that he was married, but I've been informed by several reviewers that he is actually in a committed, long term relationship (unfortunately for us adoring fans…weeps)……ah well, we can still dream, cain't we? _

_As usual, I do not own POTC, just the original characters and storyline I have created in my sick widdle brain._

**Chapter 17: The Trap Is Set…………**

"You promised me Jack Sparrow, Mr. Dixon…..why then are we sitting around when there is blood needing to be spilled and vengeance to be wrought?"

Michael Dixon observed the pacing pirate captain over the rim of his scotch, still bemused by the fact that the former wax statue he had created was alive and breathing in front of him. The real life version Hector Barbossa was even more imposing than the mannequin had been, a towering 6'4" of brooding darkness, the shiny scar-ridden cheek and yellowed eyes personifying evil incarnate. The man moved like a caged panther, back and forth, back and forth, and Michael had the distinct feeling that if it weren't for the spell binding the two, he would have been hacked into handful sized pieces long ago.

"I know what I promised, Captain, and I fully intend to deliver what I promised. Jack Sparrow is as good as dead, and his demise will be at your hands. He is at a…shall we say…disadvantage in this century, as are you." He hid his momentary fear at the snarl of rage on Barbossa's face as the man stopped his pacing and faced him from across the desk. "It is my belief that he has taken up with a soon to be former employee of mine, the artist who created his image as I created yours. We have her under surveillance and are simply waiting for the opportune moment to strike. You've waited centuries for your revenge….what's a few more hours, hmmm?" Michael smiled softly and leaned back in his chair, propping his $600-a-pair Italian leather footwear on the edge of the huge desk. At that moment, the private line on his phone rang and he quickly answered it, a calculating look on his face as the person on the other end made their report. "I see…..maintain your surveillance, and make sure she doesn't leave without an invisible escort. I'll be in touch."

Hanging up the phone, Michael poured himself another drink and made one for his guest as well before he spoke. "The surveillance team have been listening in at the girl's apartment, and they report that Jack Sparrow is not currently with Josie as we had expected. Apparently he took off on his own, but is expected to return, when we're not exactly sure." At this news, the former captain of _The Black Pearl_ growled and knocked back the scotch like it was water, throwing the glass against the wall where it shattered in a million fragments.

Michael simply tsk'ed in annoyance and shook his head at the pirate's tantrum. "Have a little faith in me, Captain….you'll have your revenge, and sooner than you think." He set his drink down and reached for his rolodex. "He was pulled here by Josie to act as her protector, so let's see how he reacts to seeing his damsel in distress. After all, why go to him when we can make him come to us?" With a sly grin, he picked up the phone and shortly thereafter spoke with another of his somewhat shady contacts. "Hey, I've got a pickup and delivery job for you. I need you to assemble a team…..no, better make it 8….. I don't want to take any chances with this package." He flipped open her personnel file and blithely read off an address. "I want you and your associates to pay a call on Ms. Perry and extend her an invitation she can't refuse…."

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"I can't believe you're serious…..MAGES in Vegas?"

Bethany chuckled again, reaching over to pat Jo comfortingly on the knee. "Close your mouth, love, or you'll be catching flies." The older woman grinned and sat back against the couch with a sigh. "It's not something we care to advertise, duchess…I wouldna' mentioned it to you at all, except that these goings on have caused quite a disturbance, and all of it centered around you. I figured I had best investigate before an assembly was called to deal with the situation."

"Honestly, Bethany…..I'm not sure what to make of the whole thing myself. A few months ago I started hearing his voice in my head, and then bam, the night of the Gala he comes to life, just in time to save me from being raped by Michael."

Her friend growled and uttered an oath in what sounded like Gaelic beneath her breath. "I'd wondered where you got that shiner…..hold on a mo'." She rubbed her hands together briskly, and Jo automatically closed her eyes as Bethany raised her hands and placed them just above her bruised cheek. Her face grew almost painfully warm and then icy cool, and the residual ache she had been experiencing disappeared. Jo opened her eyes to see Bethany shaking her hands as if they were asleep, then her friend grinned at her with satisfaction. "Healing is one of my few talents…comes in handy on occasion."

"I can't argue with you there, Beth……now I know why everyone comes to you when they have a headache. I'm just ticked that they've been holding out on me! I wish I'd have known about Bethany's Miraculous Healing Touch sooner…..here all this time I've been gagging down BC Powders!" Jo made a face at the thought of the nasty tasting headache remedy.

Bethany laughed. "Well, I don't know about you, but I could use a cup of tea. Speed healing takes a bit out o'me." Jo rose from the couch and strolled into the kitchen, still a bit bemused by her coworker's revelation. She started to fill the tea kettle automatically, deep in thought, and was startled when the container overflowed. Shaking her head, she started the water heating on the stove before getting out the cups and saucers. She was rummaging in the cupboard for the tea bags when the doorbell rang, setting Nicodemus to barking.

"Can you get that, Beth? It might be Jack….he doesn't have a key."

She heard Beth's positive reply, and turned toward the pantry to find something to serve with the tea. Reaching high, she accidentally knocked the tin of butter cookies off the top shelf, and crouched down to pick the rolling tin up off the floor. She heard voices murmuring and a strange thudding noise, followed by a yelp from Nicodemus, which was quickly silenced. Suddenly alarmed, she turned and started to stand up only to find a handsome dark haired man in dark slacks, a long sleeve pest control-logo shirt and hard hat looming over her, his firm hand coming to rest on her shoulder preventing her from rising. Glancing beyond him, she saw two men in paint spattered white coveralls rolling an unconscious Bethany onto a large canvas drop cloth. Jo panicked and froze, her eyes flying up to the man before her, the cookie tin falling from her grasp to clang noisily on the floor. The man smiled and crouched down beside her, but the friendly expression didn't reach his cold blue eyes.

"We had a report of a pest problem at this address, and I think I'm looking at it." Before she could move or speak, he pointed the spray wand in his hand at her face, releasing a fine mist that made the room swim and sent her plunging into the darkness as she slumped to the floor.

"Sweet dreams, princess."

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Michael Dixon and his companion were gliding down the Vegas strip in a limousine when the call came through. Michael was irritated when he learned that not only had Jo been taken but that another museum employee had been drugged and removed as well. One employee disappearing could be explained, but two was more than coincidence. He made a swift decision, ordering the men to take the costume designer back to the museum and inject her with a large amount of potassium chloride, simulating a heart attack. He then made arrangements for the van carrying Josie to rendezvous with them at a warehouse on the outskirts of town before releasing the call. Satisfied that he had all the bases covered, he turned back to his guest and partner in crime, a contented look on his face.

"Everything is going according to the plan, Captain. My men have left your letter and specific instructions for Sparrow at the apartment, and if he is true to form, he won't sit idly by while his precious lady love remains in danger. Now all we have to do is be patient a little longer, and he'll fly right into our hands. I think his _huevos_ would make a nice paperweight, wouldn't you agree?"

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	18. Chapter 18

_Greetings, my fine readers and faithful reviewers! I know you've been waiting ages to find out what happens to Jack and Jo…so here's your long overdue update. I plan to finish this story in approximately 3-5 chapters, so you can expect a lot more action coming your way soon!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Disney's POTC and am in no way making any profit from this fan fiction._

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 18: A Challenge Is Issued…..**

The ecstatic cab driver was grinning from ear to ear when Jack handed him an additional $100 tip in addition to his $62.50 fare. "Thanks, man, and good luck with your lady friend."

"I'm obliged to you for helping me procure these peace offerings, mate." Jack gestured to the dozen red roses and the Victoria's Secret bag, which contained a gorgeous jade green silk negligée that exactly matched Jo's eyes.

Giving the driver a jaunty salute, he got out of the cab and quickly surveyed the parking lot, relieved to see Jo's mustang in its customary parking slot. Whistling a jaunty tune, he entered the building, forgoing the elevator and instead taking the stairs 3 at a time, eager to kiss and make up with the woman who had turned his head and captured his heart in record time.

Jack rang the doorbell and stood there, casually glancing down the hallway and down at the floor while he waited. When there was no response, he frowned and pursed his lips, pressing it again twice, and then repeatedly as his frustration grew. Giving up on the doorbell, he rapped softly and called out to his lady, thinking she was ignoring him as punishment. "Jo m'love, I can explain everything sweetheart, but I'd prefer to do my groveling face to face, or at your feet if you prefer…please open the door." Still receiving no answer, Jack juggled his shoulder bag, the lingerie and the flowers and prepared to pick the lock when a thought occurred to him. _She might already be waiting for me in the bedroom……_

Just for the heck of it, he checked the door handle, and to his surprise it opened without resistance.

His surprise and delight vanished instantly, a shiver of unease taking its place as he stepped into the apartment. "Jo?" There was no response. The apartment was dark and quiet… silent in fact, and Jack immediately went on the defensive. There appeared to be no signs of a struggle in the living room, so he cautiously made his way into the kitchen. The tea kettle was on the stove, the water inside it still fairly warm, and there was a metal tin laying in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Now truly alarmed, Jack cursed softly and quickly headed for the bedroom, terrified at what he might find. He opened the door and scanned the room, momentarily relieved at not finding a body. Perhaps she walked to a neighbor's or went somewhere with a friend and just forgot to lock the door.

Hearing a familiar whimper, Jack crouched down at the foot of the bed and bending over, spotted a terrified, shaking Nicodemus curled up against the wall at the head of the bed.

Crawling along side of the bed, he called out to the little terrier. "What's happened, boy, and where's your mistress gone off to, ay? Come here, doggy, there's a good little doggy, yes." Jack coaxed the shivering dog, who gradually came closer and eventually gave Jack's fingers a tentative lick. Jack petted the whining pet absently, deep in thought. He had never seen Nicodemus in such a state, and he was certain that something had occurred to traumatize the animal, just as he was certain Jo wouldn't have left the creature in such a state. Getting ready to rise, Jack put his hand on the unmade bed, and felt something unexpected beneath his fingers. He glanced up and froze, his heart turning to ice when he spied a folded letter addressed to him in an all too familiar script, resting on what his fingers had felt….Jo's neatly severed pony tail…..

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Jo could feel the rumble of a V-8 engine beneath her cheek as she slowly came back to consciousness. She was laying face down, her head turned to the right, and was uncomfortably aware of the itchy carpet fibers digging into her face and that she had been drooling. She tried to open her eyes and briefly panicked when all she saw was blackness, until she realized that she had been blindfolded. She didn't scream, but what came out was a quiet whimper, just enough to alert her abductors that she was waking up.

She flinched when she felt movement near her, but to her surprise the metal handcuffs that immobilized her were released. Still groggy, she felt herself being lifted up, turned over on her back and laid back down, a pillow placed beneath her head. She raised her hands to try and remove her blindfold, but before she made it even halfway the handcuffs were re-applied and latched to a chain someone slipped around her waist. A quick movement confirmed her fears that her feet had been shackled as well.

She heard movement near her head and caught a fast whiff of baby powder before a hand holding the wipe moved it across her face. Jo turned her head and a voice chuckled and grabbed her chin, holding her in place. "Relax, princess, I'm just trying to make you presentable."

She recognized the voice as that of the phony exterminator. "Why are you doing this?" she whispered, her parched throat and fuzzy head scarcely able to formulate the words.

"Just doing my job, ma'am. Picking people up and taking them where I'm told to is what I do. I'm not going to hurt you…I just do delivery, not disposal, so you're perfectly safe for the time being. I'd tell you who hired me, but I reckon you'll find that out soon enough."

Jo accepted this information in silence before licking her lips and making another request. "Can I have something to drink, please…I'm so thirsty."

She heard the sound of a cooler opening and a pop can being cracked from somewhere near her feet. Pulling her thoughts together, she figured that there were at least two men in the back of what had to be a van with her, plus a driver and maybe one other, for a total of 4. The exterminator man lifted her up and placed what felt like a Dixie cup to her lips. The sweet taste of Regular Coke washing over her tongue was a relief….usually she couldn't stomach sugared sodas, but at that moment it was ambrosia. The cup was filled a second time and she finished it as well before she was laid back down on the van floor.

"I guess it wouldn't do me any good to ask you where you're taking me, would it?" Jo couldn't quite keep the note of sarcasm out of her voice. Her captor merely chuckled again, apparently amused at her reaction to the situation. Jo raised her head slightly then thudded it back onto the pillow in frustration. It was then that she noticed that something was not right. Her head seemed…lighter..and the familiar mass that had been her one and only glory was missing from behind her.

"You bastards cut off my hair?"

He only laughed at her. "Wondered how long it would take you to notice that little detail. It will grow back, princess….you look cute in a bob. We needed something special to leave as a calling card to let your boyfriend know we were serious."

"Jack! You're using me to get to Jack? Let me go you sorry ass sons of bitches!" She knew it was useless, but she screeched and thrashed against the restrains holding her down anyway, tears of fury soaking the blindfold. This went on for several minutes as the head man glanced at his watch, simply waiting. Before long her struggles slowed down and she whimpered as her limbs refused to obey her.

"What did you do…." The words came out as a half moan, half cry.

He answered her matter of factly, almost as if he was a professor giving a lecture. "That little cocktail you drank a few minutes ago contained Rohypnol, better known as Rufinol on the street---comes in handy in my line of work. It's safer than the ether I used on you earlier, keeps the patient sleepy and calm, and as a bonus causes short term amnesia in most cases. Don't try and fight it, princess.." His voice was calm in the darkness as she wept. "Just relax and let go, and when you wake up this whole experience will just seem like a bad dream. Shhhhhhh now…."

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_It's been a long time, Jack…_

_I bet that when you fired that fatal shot and left my carcass to rot on that cursed isle, you thought you had seen the last of your old first mate and greatest enemy. It seems however that the dead don't always rest in peace, and fate indeed has a sense of humor…_

_It also appears that each of us has something the other wants very badly, Jack. I have your pretty lady artist friend as my unwilling guest, and you have your life. If you value this sweet lady's life as much as I suspect you do, you'll be most agreeable to an exchange…her life for yours. If you decline to acquiesce to my request, that means no by the way, then I'll assume that she means nothing to you and will act accordingly. As you recall, Jack, I've a fondness for saucy brunettes, even more so since I was denied that headstrong Elizabeth Swann, a Turner in truth by now I've heard tell, after our last encounter. I almost hope you don't have the courage to show up……Jocelyn be a right sweet thing and a tempting prize to be sure. Pity about her lovely hair though……perhaps I'll keep her around long enough for it to grow back… _

_Your instructions to our rendezvous are below. Tell no one of this meeting or the girl will die, slowly and painfully in ways that you know I am most capable of. I hope to be seeing you soon, Jack……_

_H. Barbossa_

Jack heard a noise behind him and turned to find a disheveled, middle aged woman glaring at him from where she leaned weakly against the doorframe.

"Where in the 9 hells have you been, Jack Sparrow!"

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	19. Chapter 19

_Hello, Friends! Here is the latest chapter of Jack's adventure in modern Las Vegas! A big thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story…I hope you like it!_

_As usual, I do not own any of the characters from Disney's POTC; just the plot line and the characters I make up in my sad, sick widdle brain._

**Chapter 19: Introductions and Speculations**

Jack had at first been quite alarmed when the woman had verbally attacked him after surprising him in the bedroom, but when Nicodemus eagerly approached her, he realized that if the dog trusted her, she could be trusted by him as well. When she swayed weakly, he hurried to help the obviously exhausted woman to the room's only chair. Cocking his head and looking at her suspiciously, he watched the woman as she closed her eyes and sank into the chair, looking positively miserable.

"You seem somewhat familiar……have I threatened you before?"

She couldn't hold back a chuckle as he spoke the familiar words, and her weary eyes reflected her amusement as she replied. "No, but we've met under very intimate circumstances, Jack m'lad….I'm one of only a handful of people in this dimension who have seen your tattoo'd arse up close and personal, but that's neither here nor there. I'm Bethany, your dresser from the museum, not that that matters much. Peacock, we have a serious situation on our hands----our darling girl has gotten herself snatched by that bastard boss of ours."

Jack had still been trying to process the fact that the woman before him knew what he looked like in the nude, but her knowledge of Jo snapped him back to the present. "How do you know all this?" He grated out, suddenly looking like the fierce pirate captain she knew from the screen.

Bethany sighed. "Because I was here when she was taken, you dolt! Why else do you think I look like death warmed over?" She paused momentarily to run a hand over her face in a tired gesture. "I overheard the men who were assigned to dispose of me mention that the others were taking her to the rendezvous point to hand her over to him. Guess they didn't think it mattered since they injected enough drugs into me to kill a normal man twice over. Fortunately" she grinned, "I'm not normal." Jack noticed a strange glow in her light eyes, and realized that the being beside him was not your average human. "It took me a few minutes, but I managed that poison out of my system. Unfortunately, by that time they were long gone, and I've no idea where they have taken Jo."

"Finding Jo isn't our only worry." Jack's voice was unusually somber as he handed her the letter. "There's more to this situation than meets the eye, Bethany….it seems that I'm not the only visitor to this realm from my own."

Bethany quickly read the note and gasped as she recognized the signature at the bottom. "How is this possible?" She murmured, and then looked up at Jack before asking softly. "Give me a moment, will you?" Jack nodded and turned away, seeing her close her eyes and murmuring some sort of incantation as he glanced back from the open doorway. Heading to the kitchen, he decided to make tea, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, turning on the gas as he had seen Jo do before picking up the cookie tin from the kitchen floor.

Just as the kettle began its moaning whistle, Jack turned to see Bethany standing in the kitchen doorway with Jo's mane clasped in one hand across her chest, her eyes filled with worry and unease. She grabbed the kettle and poured them each a cup of the steaming brew before she spoke. "There's dark magic at work here, Jack, and Jo's managed to get caught up in the middle of it. There's a drain on one of the ley lines, invisible rivers of magic, that flow into the city," she added with a faint smile at his widening eyes, "and the aura of the one doing the pulling isn't familiar to me."

"So you're what I'd call a witch then?" Jack shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he eyed the woman warily, not sure he was at all comfortable dealing with a woman who might possibly shrivel his Jolly Roger with a spell or potion should he happen to raise her ire. Men with swords and guns he could handle, but he had had more than enough experiences with curses and the occult to last a lifetime.

"More of a healer than magic caster, so your manhood is safe, Captain…and before you ask, I'm not a mind reader. You reacted like just about every other man I've met who learned my other calling in life." Bethany chuckled and took another sip of her tea before becoming serious again. "There's something you should know, Jack. Michael created Barbossa the same way Jo created you, out of metal, glass, wax and hair, but that's where your similarities end. Your possessions of these forms on our plane came about much differently….you answered the call from Jo's spirit willingly and without coercion, just as I am sure your enemy did not. Barbossa is most likely bound to this place by a person or object, or quite possibly even a pact made with the one who called him forth….it could even be all of the above. None the less, it is a subject that I do know a bit about."

She reached out and laid her hand over Jack's where it rested otop the silky tresses shorn from the woman they both cared about. "We'll get her back, Jack, and then we'll make them pay. Right now, we have the advantage---they think I'm dead, so they'll expect you to charge in to save Jo all by your onesies, as you're so fond of saying. Give me an hour to recharge my batteries and call in some reinforcements, then we'll show them how wrong it is to mess with magic folk, especially in Vegas, hmmm?" He met her grin with one of his own as she reached for the phone book.

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The drug running through her system made everything happening to her seem surreal. With the blindfold on, Jo had no clue as to where she was being taken, and at that point she was beyond caring. She slipped into dreams where she and Jack were sailing together on _The Black Pearl,_ making sweet, passionate love on a warm, sandy beach with waves washing over them, or curled against Jack's chest beneath a blanket by a crackling fire while the waves lulled them to sleep, only to be jarred back to reality when the van crossed over a particularly deep pothole or came to a sudden stop. At one point she caught the familiar odor of coffee, and later smelled and heard her captors enjoying a quick meal of burgers and fries. She was slightly irritated that they didn't offer her anything, even though the smell of the food made her slightly nauseated. In those few brief moments of clarity, she realized that it seemed like they had been driving an awfully long time, and wondered if they were merely driving around aimlessly until it was time to take her to meet her fate…

She drifted off again only to be awakened by one of her captors releasing her chains and pulling her into a sitting position. The sudden movement awoke her nausea once again, but she was distracted from her illness when those same hands began pulling her shirt over her head. Filled with the sudden horror that she was about to be raped, she began to cry out and claw at the hands, even though she knew she had little chance of stopping whatever was about to happen. Her hands were pushed back down into her lap and a callused hand caught hold of her chin as the familiar voice spoke to her firmly.

"Settle down, princess. Our employer provided us with more suitable attire for your meeting, and you're going to wear it. Now, we can do this easy or we can do this hard…but either way, your clothes are coming off. So what's it going to be, hmmm?"

With a choked sob, she stopped resisting and allowed his hands to remove her shirt, shivering as he ran a single finger down her damp cheek. "Good choice, precious…I hate to deliver damaged goods." His cool chuckle made her stomach heave, and she was rewarded by his startled curse when she spewed bile in his general direction before passing out once more.

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Bethany set the phone down in its cradle and turned back to jack, a satisfied smile crossing her face. "Good news, Peacock….we've got help on the way. We're lucky, I managed to get a hold of Max just before he left the dojo. He teaches Tae Kwon Do during the week and works weekends as a knight at Medieval Times Las Vegas." She added, then chuckled and shook her head gently at the blank look that crossed Jack's face. "Never mind, peacock…let's just say that he is ready, willing and able to kick some ass for the good guys. I think you'll like Misty, too….she's a showgirl who's got it and isn't afraid to show it off. She also happens to be the most powerful priestess of light that I know. She and I will be able to work together to pinpoint Jo's location, and also take care of whatever spell has your old shipmate bound to this plane. Between the four of us, I think we'll be able to put a crimp in Michael's plans for the evening, don't you agree, Captain Sparrow?"

"Y'know Bethany, m'love, you're a rather bloodthirsty wench….ever considered a career in piracy?"

She merely smirked at him and reached for another butter cookie as she replied with a chuckle. "Jack, I work in Vegas, remember…..we INVENTED piracy!"

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**Coming up next: Jo meets the men behind her abduction; the allies meet and make plans for the final showdown….Stay tuned!**


	20. Chapter 20

_Greetings, friends…I am sorry you had to wait so long for the next chapter of this story, but I haven't had as much time to write here lately. Thank you for your patience, and a special thanks to all of you who have taken the time to review—your comments are very appreciated!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Disney or Pirates of the Caribbean, just the characters and plot lines that I make up in my sick, overflowing widdle brain!_

_Nuff said…_

**Chapter 20: Interesting Meetings**

It was the silence that she noticed first when she came back to consciousness…..

For a moment she was confused; then she realized what was missing---the steady rumble and vibration of the van's powerful engine. She had gotten used to the sound, and the lack of it now filled her with a strange fear. Like a field mouse being hunted by a raptor, she lay perfectly still, listening intently. Her lack of vision helped Jo focus her other senses, and her nose picked up the telltale odor of cigarette smoke. The lack of breath sounds revealed that she was alone in the vehicle, but she could hear the murmur of voices nearby.

Jo moved her hands and feet slowly, in case she was being watched, and her heart leaped when she discovered that her legs were no longer shackled. She also realized that her hands were no longer restrained by handcuffs, but by what felt like silk scarves. She felt the weight of heavy skirts on her legs, and when she felt of the fabric her fingers recognized it as a heavy silk. Another strange fact was revealed when she tried to draw in a deep breath and felt a snugness that restricted her breathing; she was wearing a gods-be-dammed corset, and a tightly laced one at that! "Kidnapping me and cutting off my hair I can forgive, but making me wear a corset? That's just plain SICK!" she murmured softly.

Before she could think about an escape plan, she heard the voices approaching. Jo took several deep breaths and tried to slow her rapid heartbeat as the doors clanked and squeaked. She felt the cool rush of air across her face and chest, and realized that the cut of her gown left a greater portion of her upper body exposed.

She felt the vehicle dip slightly as one of her captors hoisted himself up beside her, and she couldn't restrain the gasp and shiver that escaped her when a cool finger traced its way down her cheek.

"Awake, huh? I estimated that the Rohypnol would wear off soon, and I was right as usual. How do you feel? Not nauseated, are you?" When she shook her head and uttered a soft no, she heard him grunt his approval. "Good. I know you're probably dying of thirst…that's one of the side effects of our little knock out potion. I'm going to sit you up and give you something to drink now but I warn you….puke on me again and there will be severe consequences."

Despite her precarious situation, Jo had to hold back a grin at the wry tone of his voice. _So I managed to hit my target earlier…..COOL! Score one for good guys…_She felt him pulling her upright, on hand on her bound wrists and the other behind her shoulder. The movement caused her internal organs to shift, and suddenly the pressure on her lungs increased phenomenally to the point where she couldn't get any air.

"I c..c…can't……br…breathe!" she managed to gasp as she sagged backwards in his grasp, her face turning an alarming shade of red. Cursing, her captor laid her back down and rolled her onto her stomach where she lay gasping like a fish out of water. "Jacobs, you moron, you laced this damn thing too tight!" he shouted out as he struggled with the garment, and then the pressure eased to allow air, blessed air back into her starved lungs. Limp with relief, she allowed herself to be rolled back over and raised up, and what felt like a sports bottle was pressed to her lips. She sucked greedily, savoring the icy cold water, which mercifully eased the dryness in her mouth. Suddenly fearful that she had been tricked again, she pulled away, only to have it shoved back into her mouth with a chuckle. Her abductor seemed heartily amused by her reluctance to drink. "It isn't drugged, princess---I know you're still thirsty, so drink up. It isn't good to give a person repeated doses of Roofie…it can be addictive, and it kills too many brain cells. I'd hate to think of a pretty gal like you ending up a rutabaga in some rest home."

"What time is it?" Jo asked before sucking down more of the proffered water. She was somewhat surprised when he answered her question without hesitation.

"Nearly midnight. You've been our guest for the past, oh…11 hours or so. Won't be too long now, though, and you'll be bidding a fond farewell to our humble hospitality. I'd say your ordeal is just about over." With that, he lowered her back to her pillow and called out to the others with him. "Time to roll."

She heard the cab doors open and close before the engine roared to life once more, and Jo could hear the crunch of gravel beneath the van's tires. This time the journey was quite short….less than 5 minutes later she felt the van stop and one man got out, and she heard the scraping of metal on metal that sounded vaguely familiar. Moments later she heard the eerie echo of the rumbling motor as they pulled forward slowly into what sounded like a large, empty building…a warehouse or hanger of some sort, perhaps?

The vehicle stopped and the engine ticked in the sudden silence before the back doors creaked open once more. The Orkin man, as she had begun to think of him, bent down and scooped her up in his arms. "This is where you get off, princess. I'd appreciate it if you didn't cause a fuss during the transfer—try anything and I'll be forced to put you to sleep again, and this time I won't catch you before you hit the ground, understand?"

Not trusting herself to speak without giving him a piece of her mind, Jo simply nodded and didn't resist or make a sound when he handed her down to one of his cohorts. She heard him jump down with a grunt just about the time she was abruptly set on her feet. Her vertical state didn't last long however; between the icy shock of the cold concrete floor beneath her bare feet and the drug's side effects, her legs wouldn't hold her up. Without a word being spoken she felt him sweep her up effortlessly. He didn't respond to her softly murmured "thank you", but his arms tightened momentarily as he and her co-captors began walking, their footsteps echoing loudly against the hollow-sounding buildings metal walls.

At that very same moment, a strange looking foursome was gathered around Jo's kitchen table; A pirate, a beauty queen, a ninja and a graying minor mage, all of them with the same desire—to find their friend and put an end to an evil plan before it grew out of hand. Three of them sat quietly, focusing their will upon the crystal pendulum being held by the youngest of the group—the pretty priestess, who was using her magic to find Jo's current location. The slightly glowing quartz crystal hung suspended on a string over a spread out map of Las Vegas, a single strand of long dark hair wrapped around it and tied in an intricate knot. As they watched, it stopped its slow circling motion and actually hung at a 45 degree angle toward the Northwest corner of the map. The priestess doing the divination moved to focus on that particular area, past the industrial park and on the outskirts of the warehouse district. After making several passes, the pendulum stopped each time at a certain spot on the map, and grabbing up a Sharpee, Misty marked the coordinated with an x and a circle before laying down the crystal with a sigh.

"Well, as of right this moment, your Jo is in the warehouse district---that's where the showdown is supposed to take place, so she is more than likely with him or nearby. I won't know for certain until I see him, but my gut instinct tells me that this Michael is the key to Barbossa's existance this plane….if we hurt him, we hurt Barbossa and vise versa."

The dark-haired man in black beside her nodded. "From what you've told me, and your former first mate sound like the kind of man who likes to gloat, so he'd want her where you could see her. More than likely he will try to use her to distract you, to egg you into doing something stupid, like surrendering…..now, here's what I think we should do…………."

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It seemed to Jo like they had been walking for ever, going up and down stairs and through several doorways before she was suddenly set back on her feet. She was cursing the shakiness of her legs when she heard the low growl of an approaching vehicle and she felt the tug of her blindfold being removed. She only had time to recognize that she was in a dimly lit empty warehouse before she was momentarily blinded by the headlights of the long white stretch limousine as it pulled up along side the group. Suddenly frightened, she took a step back only to run into the solid wall of the Orkin man's chest, his hands coming up like iron bars on her upper arms to prevent any attempts at flight. The limo door opened, and she was both shocked and horrified when she recognized the person who had arranged her kidnapping to be none other than her attempted rapist.

Suddenly furious, she jerked hard at her captors arms in an attempt to get at the man she hated. "You bastard!" She shrieked, kicking out as he stepped out of the limousine, a smug, satisfied look on his face as he ignored her and turned his attention to the man behind her.

"Still pretty feisty, I see…..did she give you any trouble?" He asked nonchalantly as he straightened, brushing an invisible bit of lint off his elegant suit as he looked around the warehouse with mild distaste.

"None I couldn't handle….be careful of your suit, though….she's got pretty good aim when she tosses her cookies."

Michael scowled at him, his expression darkening with anger. "Oh, believe me, I am already aware of that fact, Mr. Payne. Now, back to the business at hand….I've already transferred the funds to your off-shore account—here is the confirmation. I believe that concludes our transaction, and as always, it has been a pleasure working with you." Handing the man an envelope, he turned his attention back to the woman before him, who stood silently as she trembled with fear and fury. "Now, my dear, there's someone here who's been waiting to see you again."

Jo was ripped away from her former captor by her bound hands and shoved roughly through the limousine's open door, where she fell face first practically in the lap of the vehicles other occupant. Her face came to rest on top of a heavy leather boot, and using her bound hands to push herself up, her heart froze as her gaze came to rest on the familiar but terrifying face of Hector Barbossa, who was staring down at her with an evil, amused expression on his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't Jack Sparrow's little whore, come to pay her respects. How kind of you to take the time to dally with an old salt like meself. Y'know, it's quite a coincidence that you're wearing maroon….reminds me of the last acquaintance of Jack's I took a particular liking to, though I must say, your attributes are far more…bountiful….than hers." His eyes took on a somewhat predatory look as she followed his lusty gaze to the large amount of bosom showing above the gown and the tightly laced corset.

His rough hand reached out to stroke the top of her dark head, and she shrank away from the mock-tender gesture. "Pity about your hair, missy, but if you're nice to me and behave yourself, you might just live long enough to grow it back." His fingers dropped down to graze the tops of her breasts, and he slapped her sharply when she attempted to knock his hand away with her bound ones. "None of that now….I was just examining the merchandise I bought, and it's a lesson you're needed to remind you who your master is. Let's see if you taste as sweet as you look, my fine, fancy piece…" Panic filled her as he grasped her hands and pulled her across his lap before slowly leaning down to lick her face, his evil laughter roaring in her ears.

Liam Welch, the assassin/kidnapper otherwise known as Mr. Payne, closed his eyes briefly as Jo's horrified scream was cut off by the slamming of the limo door. "Good luck, princess." He murmured softly as he turned and walked away.


	21. Chapter 21

_Greetings, Friends…sorry once again for the delay, but I have been suffering greatly from the dreaded curse of writer's block. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this latest offering! I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to review this story, and I want to give a shout out to my new Beta, Wakizashi, who has become a wonderful friend and has been given the task of poking me with a very sharp stick should I procrastinate too much in getting these chapters out!  
_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Disney's POTC or any of its characters; I just like to drag them out and play with them every once in a while, and I promise to put them back when I'm through….well, most of them anyway…think I might hold on to Jack Sparrow for a while..hehehehe._

_Enjoy!  
_

**Chapter 21: Make Ready For War**

_1:00 am…_

Max could best be described as looking tall, dark and lethal as he leaned against the counter in Jo's kitchen, a set of infrared photos in one hand and a half full coffee mug in the other. Following Misty's precise directions, he had gone out on a reconnaissance mission to scope out the building they believed Jo was being held in. His special ops training and techy toys were definitely paying off as he managed to get close enough to the building to actually get detailed photos. He had not spotted their missing friend, but had managed to overhear some of the goons positioned inside the warehouse discussing what they'd like to do if they got their hands on the woman being held prisoner. Satisfied that the priestess's location charm had been dead on, Max had been forced to leave the scene using the utmost stealth, as he knew he when he was outnumbered and couldn't possibly free Jo on his own. Fortunately, Jo had recently invested in one of those digital photo home processing systems….it saved them the trouble of going to a 1 hr photo. Infrared photographs would be hard to explain, even in a wild town like Las Vegas. 

"Honey, I'm home!"

Bethany called out as she entered the apartment to Nicodemus's excited yips. "Here ya go, pal." Dropping her keys into their special pocket, she pulled a new rawhide chew from her shoulder bag and tossed it through the open bedroom door. She glanced over and saw Misty kneeling before the coffee table turned makeshift altar, packing up her working tools. Murmuring a greeting, she strolled past the priestess and entered the kitchen, grinning when she saw Max in his spy gear. Setting down the wooden box containing the item she had been sent in search of, she grabbed a mug of her own, hoping a cup of java would be enough to keep her alert for their upcoming adventure.

Pouring herself a healthy measure of the beverage, she noted that it was exceptionally dark, just the way she liked it. What she wasn't prepared for was the extreme bitter kick and the funny aftertaste, and she had to restrain herself from slapping the grin of Max's face when she grimaced.

"Merlin's brass balls, Max, what the hell is this shit you're passing off as coffee?"

The man in black just smirked. "Triple strength expresso with some chickory added for flavor. It's a time honored recipe one of my former comrade in arms gave me…I figured we could use the extra kick."

Well, beggin' your pardon, but it tastes like a possum crawled up inside the pot and died, like two weeks ago. Hell, forget knives, guns and spells…let's just throw this coffee at them---it's strong enough to knock over a buffalo." Bethany's grinned as she reached for the cream and sugar.

"That stuff will kill you someday." Misty shook her head at her two friends, her gray robe fluttering gently as she picked up the empty tea kettle and went to the sink to fill it. "All that caffeine isn't good for you….tea is much more natural and better on your system than that poison." She smiled as she reached for the tin of her own special blend of tea from her bag, hanging on the chair back.

Bethany snorted. "We all have our vices, m'dear, so hop down off your pedestal, Miss "I love natural foods but have a secret cupboard stashed full of M & M's, Hershey's Kisses with Almonds and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups."

"I'll have you know that I only have that on hand for dire emergencies."

"Oh, and since when does watching Gone With The Wind or a Jane Austen sappy romantic mini series on A & E constitute an emergency?" Misty couldn't refrain from blushing and busied herself with the tea kettle on the stove.

Max raised his eyebrows as he looked askance at the two women. Bethany had to chuckle at his confused expression. "Trust me, you don't want to know….it's a woman thing." Bethany took another sip of the still bitterly strong brew, then swung around as she noticed Max's eyes widening as he looked at something over her shoulder.

Jack emerged from the bedroom looking as if he had just been plucked from the deck of _The Black Pearl._ His hair was once again adorned with an odd assortment of beads, coins and the odd fishbone or two beneath his worn red bandana. He wore his customary white shirt open halfway to his waist, dark vest, faded charcoal leggings, faded red and white sash covered by a wide buckled belt, and brown square-toed bucket boots. Tucked into the sash was the cutlass he'd been wearing when they left the museum, now sharpened to battle worthiness thanks to the whetstone that Max had provided. Misty turned when she heard his booted footsteps, and the teaspoon she'd been holding made a tinkling sound as both it and her jaw hit the floor.

Jack's kohl-lined eyes lacked their customary twinkle as he walked past the trio and into the pantry, emerging moments later with an unopened bottle of Captain Morgan's. Making quick work of the cap, he tilted the bottle up and observed the group from beneath his half closed lids as the fiery liquid burned a path to his stomach. Lowering the bottle, he strolled casually to the kitchen table and seated himself, propping his boots on the table edge as he took another healthy swallow of the liquor. "What're you all gawking at, eh?" He smirked at their dumbfounded expressions. " You didn't think I'd face the most feared, depraved, blood-thirsty, loathsome pirate in the Spanish Main, next to meself of course, sober as a newly ordained priest, did you?" Jack grinned as he raised the bottle to his lips once more. "You're forgetting one very important thing, mates….I'm Captain Jack Sparrow…I do m'best thinkin' and fightin' with a pistol or sword in one hand and a bottle in the other. Speakin' o'pistols." Jack was suddenly on his feet and face to face with Bethany. "Beth, m'lovely, were you able to locate that special welcoming gift for me old crewmate?"

Bethany sighed and turned back to the box she had left on the counter. "You're lucky that Vegas is home to so many 24 hour pawn shops, pirate. I had to hit 5 of them that specialize in firearms before I found anything that even vaguely resembles what you described. It cost you an extra ten grand to get him to backdate the purchase so as to forego the 3 day waiting period, though—I had to convince him that it was a birthday gift for my gun crazy hubby, and that you had no intention of firing such a pricey antiquity." She slid the box toward Jack and flipped the catch, grinning at the sighs of appreciation that escaped the group as they gazed at the beautiful but deadly looking weapon.

Resting on a bed of dark blue velvet, the rare flintlock pistol was a work of art. Jack whistled softly as he reverently lifted the gun with its carved walnut fullstock, admiring the gold inlay and raised carvings along the barrel tang. "Aaaaah, now this looks familiar….Dutch made, if I'm right?"

Bethany nodded. "An 18th Century Brass Lock Colonial Period Dutch long holster pistol, Circa 1715 or thereabouts, or so the dealer assured me. It's in near mint and fireable condition, although he couldn't guarantee accuracy over 30 yards or so. I told him that distance wasn't an issue."

She had to fight down the urge to shiver when she saw the feral gleam in Jack's eyes as they met her own as he held the gun up and stroked it with his be-ringed hand, smirking as he spoke the words that chilled her to her soul.

"A truer statement than that has ne'er been made, luv. Last time I sighted him down a gun barrel, t'was involving a chest of gold, my ship and a curse. Those things I expect a respectable pirate to fight over…comes with the territory. But takin' a man's flesh and blood treasure…that's against the Code, and no pirate defies the code without retribution. This time" he sighted down the barrel of the gun, his hand steady and his eyes betraying cold fury. "It's personal."

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At that moment, Jack's "flesh and blood treasure" was in a most uncomfortable position….seated on the floor of the limousine with her left cheek resting on Barbossa's left thigh. She shuddered as he ran his rough hand through her shorn hair in a motion that would have been considered soothing if it had it been coming from anyone else but him. Her eyes were shut and she said nothing, hoping beyond hope that he had given up his crude attempts at seduction. She had learned quickly in the short time that they had been together in the car that any sign or sound of fear was a definite turn on for the aging pirate.

Michael sat tensely on the bench seat adjacent to the Captain. "I've been thinking about our "arrangement", Barbossa….and I realize now that I'm getting the short end of the stick here. So far, all I've done is spend my time and money helping you get your revenge on Jack Sparrow, and I've yet to see any benefit. I think now would be an excellent time for me to collect my share of this transaction." He leaned over and caught hold of Jo's bound hands, only to find the blade of his partner's cutlass beneath his chin.

"There'll be no partaking of any spoils of this here war until I'm standing over the cold, dead carcass of Jack Sparrow, Dixon, unless you care to join him. As for our terms, I've been thinking on that as well. Matter o'fact, you might say I've had a change o'heart, now that I've seen this little morsel here." He took a moment to raise Jo's face up, and cackled when she glared at him silently before jerking her head away defiantly. "She's a spirited thing, and far to fine to waste on a gutless bastard like yourself. No, I'm thinkin' that it would suit me fine if she accompanies me when we conclude this here business."

"That wasn't our agreement, you..:" His words were cut short as the blade moved ever so slightly, causing blood to begin dripping slowly from the tiny cut beneath his chin. "You can't hurt me…the spell forbids it!"

Barbossa only chuckled. "The spell forbids me from doing you life threatening harm and from killing you, scum, but not all injuries are life threatening. I needed you to be my connection to this plane and to assist me in getting my revenge, but know this; once Sparrow is dead and I regain the treasure from the Isle de Muerta, your position at my side will be tenuous at best. As long as you are alive, I am impervious to any injury, just as I was under Cortez's curse. So you'd best be thinking of ways to make yourself useful, Mr. Dixon. I may have to keep you alive, but you'd be surprised how long a man can live in a cave with naught but stale bread and water to sustain him." With that, he reached over to the wet bar and removed a round green sphere and pressed it into Michael's hands. "Enjoy this apple, Mr. Dixon…..it may be the last one you see for a long, long time."

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	22. Chapter 22

_Greetings all! It has been ages since I had the opportunity to update, and I apologize for keeping you waiting. Life has taken a turn for the better, as my Mother moved to our town and I have been very busy helping her settle in. This is the next to last chapter of this story...the final chapter and epilogue are being written, but since it is going to be longer, I thought it would be best to go ahead and post something to let you know I haven't fallen off the face of the planet!_

_As always, I do not own any characters from POTC and am not making any profit from the writing of this story. _

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**Chapter 22: The Best Laid Plans….**

_2:00 a.m._

Despite the hustle and bustle of the rest of Vegas, this particular corner of the warehouse district was eerily quiet beneath the orange-ish glow of the few street lamps that remained intact---it was almost as if the buildings themselves were holding their collective breaths. The guards at the entrances were certainly feeling the tension; it was obvious to the watchers that by every movement of their nervous pacing and in their low voiced conversations that something was about to go down---something big and ugly.

Lowering his high powered binoculars, Max swiftly and quietly withdrew the way he came through the tall weeds and made his way back to where the remainder of the small group waited impatiently, crouched behind an abandoned car. He nodded at Bethany, who took a moment to cast a small, soundproof bubble around the group before he gave his report. "There are 5 men guarding the perimeter---2 by the main entrance, 1 by the offices and two patrolling the loading docks. They're nervous and armed with enough hardware to put a serious hurt on you." His serious expression lightened for a moment as he glanced at each of their faces. "I don't think any of you need any more piercings at this point, so try not to make a target of yourself while I take them out, all right?"

Misty smirked. "What, are you kidding? This showgirl's body is insured by Lloyd's of London, and I'm pretty sure getting shot while attempting to rescue damsels in distress from supernatural phenomenon isn't covered under my policy. Trust me, until you give me the o.k., I'm keeping my head down and my ass covered for a change."

Max chuckled and reached out to tug on a long curl fondly. "It wasn't you I was worried about, Priestess….it's Brunhilde here that I'm afraid will go haring off without waiting for backup."

Bethany only stuck her tongue out and scowled at him, the action a momentary break in the tension the small group was experiencing. "You best be worrying about your own carcass there, Max….there'd be broken hearted ladies all over Vegas if something were to happen to Lady Gueneviere's favorite knight. Besides, I don't think they could find another man with a big enough head to fit your helm, pretty boy."

Max winced and grinned ruefully, shaking his head before glancing down at his watch. Getting serious again, he turned his attention to Jack, who was absently stroking the butt of the pistol where it rested in his sash as he stared toward the warehouse. "It's about that time, Jack….you ready?"

There was just a hint of hunger in his voice as the young pirate replied, smiling faintly as he did so. "Aye, lad, not just ready but eager. There are certain skills that a pirate like meself needs to work at in order to keep sharp, and it's been a while since I used my sword….the metal one, that is." The pirate grinned at the women's amused snorts, his teeth gleaming in the faint light as he and Max exchange knowing looks before he turned his gaze back on the women. "You minxes stay put til Max gives you the signal to heave to. I 'd hate to have to come in and rescue the pair of you from Barbossa's clutches as well. Not that Captain Jack Sparrow isn't up to the task, mind you, but I'd like to save a bit of me energy for a reunion with a certain lady artist I know." He started to turn away, but suddenly found himself engulfed in a warm hug from Bethany.

"You better come back, you mangy scallywag, cause if you don't …" Her words trailed off as she released him, trying hard not to cry. Jack didn't say anything, only leaned back and cocked his head to once side, giving her his famous raised eyebrow "Sparrow Stare" which caused her to grin tremulously despite her sadness. He straightened and laid one arm across his chest, his be-ringed fist balled tightly.

"I swear, on pain of death, that I will do my everything in my power as Captain of the Black Pearl to return both meself and me lady to you safe and sound, or I'll never touch another drop of rum in this life or the next,. which is a fate worse than death in my opinion. Satisfied, luv?"

He chuckled and grabbed her hand before it made contact with his face, gallantly planted a kiss on it. "Be well." he said softly, patting Bethany's cheek and nodding to the priestess, who returned the salute with a grin.. With that, he nudged Max and the two men crept back into the tall weeds and made their way toward the warehouse. As they reached the edge of the vacant field, Jack reached over and stopped Max with a hand.

"I intent to make them pay, Max, in blood…..one drop for every severed hair from Jo's head and for every second she's been forced to spend in their company." His voice was cold and deadly, as was the expression in his eyes reflected in the faint light. "I need you three to get Jo to safety and keep her there while I handle the rest. Whatever happens, I want her as far away from here as possible. I'll have your word on it then?"

Max nodded somberly, then sighed, the faintest flicker of a smile crossing his face as he met Jack's intense gaze with one of his own. "You damn well better make it quick and make it back in one piece, Sparrow… I hear that you sea dogs can hold your liquor pretty well, and I want to put that theory to the test. Not everyday a man gets the chance to try and drink a real pirate under the table, hey?"

"A man after me own heart, you are, Max….can't think of a better man to get pissed with than a knight o' the bloody round table. Tell you what, I'll even spring for the first bottle, what say you to that?"

"Make it a keg and you're on, pirate." Max reached out and smacked Jack on the shoulder, grinning as the smaller man grimaced, his gold teeth gleaming.

"Right then….I'm off to rescue the aforementioned damsel in distress, so you take care of our friends with the guns once I've gone inside. And if something…bad…should happen …" he hesitated, growing serious once more…. "tell Jo not to cry for me, will you? Never could stand a crying woman." He made a grimace of distaste "No woman's pretty when their face gets all blotchy and their nose is runnin'." With that he rose to his feet and stepped out of the high grass, whistling a jaunty sea chanty as he walked toward the open chain link metal gates.

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Michael had grudgingly left the limousine to watch for Jack's arrival, leaving Jo alone with the leering pirate. Moments later Barbossa, tired of simply petting Jo, had suddenly without warning pulled her up and laid her back first across his lap. He roughly squeezed her breast that was enticingly displayed by the gown's low neck and was rewarded by a squeal of fury and a sharp blow to the chin by her bound wrists that would have floored a lesser man. Rather than being angered, he appeared amused by her struggles, his rough bark of laughter startling Jo into silence. Striking as quick as a cobra, he bent over and planted a loud smacking kiss on her unwilling mouth before leaning back to observe her.

"Fucking bastard." Jo muttered, trying not to gag as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and glared at him.

"I readily admit to being the fatherless son of a whore, missy, but I'm not a fucking bastard, at least not at the moment---a situation which I hope to remedy quite soon in fact. We're just waiting for our mutual friend to show up before we move on to tonight's featured entertainment, my sweet."

"And I bet you're just dying to tell me what that is, so go ahead….knock yourself out." Jo did her best to cover her exposed chest with her arms as she waited expectantly for his response. Barbossa merely chuckled and pinched her thigh through the dress, causing her to yelp with pain and kick at him ineffectually with her bare feet.

"Why, I thought a smart lass like yourself would have figured it out by now, my dove. Sure, and it's true that I could have simply left you in your home with your pretty little throat slit and me dagger in your heart and been done with it, but then again, I'm a thrifty man and it seemed like a waste of such talent and beauty. So I says to meself, "self," Barbossa grinned, revealing his stained and rotting teeth to his helpless prisoner "what could I do to that clever as a fox, scurvy former captain o' mine that would truly pay him back for putting a bullet in me and stealing my ship and me treasure?" And then it came to me like a bolt from the blue—the perfect plan for revenge." He ran his rough hand down her cheek, and smirked as Jo shuddered. "Like meself, Jack has a physical tie to this plane, and he is bound to you as I am to Michael. Likewise, he can't be physically hurt unless harm comes to you. That's why there was no sense in killing you outright, missy….if you die, Jack dies, and I want him to suffer at my hands for a time before Old Hob gets his due."

"So that's what this is all about? You intend to torture me for God knows how long to get revenge on Jack for something that happened almost 400 years ago?"

"Nothing quite so gruesome as that, m'dear…I was actually summoned here by Michael, whose fondest desire is to see you broken at his feet. Finding me old shipmate alive and well here was just an added bonus. See, the plan is to chain our Sparrow to a wall in a room along with a pistol with one shot. Then I get the pleasure of bedding your bound and naked body repeatedly in front of him until he goes completely mad and kills either himself or you. Just the thought of it is making me randy as a goat---aye, 'tis been much too long since I've known the pleasure of sweet release between a woman's thighs. The best part is that much as he'd like to, it wouldn't do him any good to shoot me. Either scenario will be highly entertaining for me and for Michael as well I'm sure, although gentleman that I am I'd rather Jack take the coward's way out and swallow the bullet himself. I'm just curious to see how long he'll hold out…a few days I'm hoping.".

His words made her insides turn to Jell-o, but she somehow managed to keep her voice and her limbs from trembling. "What makes you think Jack would be willing to walk right into your trap? He's too smart to fall for your tricks."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong, Josie girl. He's a man of honor, Jack is, and even if he weren't, the geas bond between your souls wouldn't let him rest til you were safe. And knowing the lad as long as I have, well, let's just say he gets a mite testy when others try to lay their hands on ladies he has a fondness for, be they of wood or warm flesh." Barbossa slid his rough hand along her thigh as she struggled not to heave, her stomach and her head both awhirl. He laughed heartily as she swatted at his hands and managed to roll off his lap onto the floor with a thump.

"Eager to begin, are ye? Well, I was going to wait til your lover arrived, but since you asked me so sweetly.." Barbossa looked up swiftly as the door opened and Michael stuck his head in, smirking at Jo's submissive position.

"He's here."

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	23. Chapter 23

_Greetings all! Here is the last main chapter to this story...the only thing left to do now is the epilogue, and hopefully you won't have to wait as long for it as you have for these last few chapters. Again, my apologies for the delays, and I thank you for being patient. _**  
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**Chapter 23: Final Showdown**

The guards at the main entrance of the warehouse eyed Jack warily as the pirate strolled casually up to them, seemingly unperturbed by the presence of the assault style weaponry the men carried with apparent ease.

"The name's Captain Jack Sparrow, mate, and I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find an old comrade o'mine by the name of Barbossa---tall fellow, bad teeth, feathery hat, has a fondness for apples?" His friendly, golden tooth grin didn't fade when one of the guard rolled his eyes and caught him by the arm. "Oi, easy on the goods there, if you please." Jack sputtered as the other guard slid the metal doors open a few feet as the first roughly shoved the dark eyed man through the opening, prodding him forward with the business end of the rifle. Jack eyes swept the building as he moved forward toward the long car, his gaze hardening when they encountered Michael, who strolled over to meet them halfway with a triumphant expression on his still slightly bruised face.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Jack Sparrow, a miracle waxwork come to life." He smirked as he came to stand face to face with the glowering pirate. "At first I thought it was just an amazing look-alike Jo hired to pull a prank on me, but when I heard your voice and saw the surveillance video, I came to the conclusion that something truly amazing had happened."

"I came to a conclusion about you as well, Michael---you're a dickless mama's boy who gets his jollies by beating up on helpless women in order to feel manly. I wouldn't even keelhaul a worthless bastard like you…your carcass would sicken the fish." Jack only grinned when Michael swore and hit him with a right cross. Michael stepped back and cursed, shaking his injured hand. Jack realized that he might have spoken a bit rashly, but boldly continued to taunt his adversary anyway. "What…haven't had much practice intimidating a real man before, you bleedin' fop?"

Michael just laughed and nodded at the guard, who sucker punched Jack in the stomach with the but of his gun. "We'll see who's intimidated once you see what's in store for you, pirate. Oh, and if you're thinking of trying to take me down, don't bother. Barbossa needs me alive and well, so if you value your hide you won't touch me. " He straightened his collar and tightened his elegant tie. "Speaking of touching, you might be interested in knowing that the last time I saw your girl, she was flat on her back underneath our mutual friend . I must say, the bitch didn't look too happy about it either, poor thing. Mmmmm, it makes me hot just remembering that." Michael evil chuckle was cut short as he stepping back when Jack lunged at him, held back only by the rifle pointed at his chest.

"Be warned, Dixon…..once I finish my business with Barbossa, you and I will finish this. That's a promise, and Captain Jack Sparrow always keep his promises." The pirate's cold eyes were full of hatred, and Michael smirked, trying to hide the shiver that ran through him at Jack's deadly words. "Now if you don't mind, I've a bit of parley-ing to do with my former first mate, so make like the good little lackey you are and tell 'im I'm awaiting his pleasure, ay?"

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Meanwhile, a dark figure slipped silently through the shadows of the loading docks, his CO2 powered tranquilizer rifle held tightly to his broad chest. The former Navy Seal also carried a Beretta with several spare clips and several silent weapons that he would use without hesitation should the need arise. Max wasted no time in taking out the first guard, who slipped to the ground unconscious without making a sound, as had the second. He tossed a rock against the metal wall near the office door, and when the 3rd guard came to investigate, he took him down after a brief but satisfying scuffle.

Pulling out a pencil thin flashlight, he sent a signal burst of 3 brief flashes into the night, and a few moments later the two women emerged from the grass lot. The trio entered the building and slipped up a short flight of stairs to the main office. Holding the flashlight in his teeth, Max quickly made short work of the lock. Glancing up, he noticed Bethany watching him, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. "I didn't think they taught lock-picking in the Navy."

Max only grinned and opened the now unlocked door, stashing the tools back in his pocket. "They don't. It's just one of the many handy talents I've picked up here and there."

Misty and Bethany exchanged glances and grinned. "I've always admired men who are good with their hands." Misty murmured as they moved into the office, locking the door behind them. Max smirked but said nothing as he moved to the long window overlooking the nearly empty warehouse. Spotting Michael and Jack, he turned back to the women, who were busy unloading Misty's satchel. "Michael is taking his frustrations out on our friend, ladies…..you'd better make with the mojo pronto if we want him back in one piece."

Misty had already cast a circle of salt around her makeshift altar and had made a cleansing pass with her smoking incense sensor. Invoking the presence of the elements, she took up Michael's nametag that Bethany had retrieved from his desk earlier that day and placed it on her pewter pentacle. She lit a charcoal tablet inside her small cauldron, then gestured for Bethany to be seated opposite her. The two women joined hands, then closing her eyes, Misty began to speak.

_Lord and Lady of Moon and Sun_

_Spirits of fire, earth, water, and air_

_Let thy will and mine be one_

_I beseech thee, grant now my prayer_

_Evil to this plane is bound_

_Darkness seeks to vanquish light_

_Let for wickedness no sanctuary be found_

_We seek your aid in this noble fight_

_As these words of power are spoken_

_We sever the ties of blood that bind_

_Let this dark-wrought spell be broken_

_Release bound spirit, body and mind_

_As I will it, so mote it be._

As she spoke the final words, Misty and Bethany flung up their hands to release their combined energies. Picking up her athame, Misty made a swift cutting gesture on all sides of the nametag before casting it into the burning cauldron. There was a noticeable change in the air, and Bethany could almost swear she heard a psychic scream of rage as the plastic smoked and melted. Dismissing the circle, the women took several deep breaths before crawling over to where Max waited at the window. An amused expression crossed his face as he turned to them and cocked his head in a "see for yourself" gesture. "I may have been a bit skeptical before, but I'd say your prayers have been answered. I think it's time I joined in the fun."

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Michael watched with sadistic glee as a guard punched Jack in the jaw while a 2nd held him from behind, followed by another punch to the gut. "Not so cocky now are you, Sparrow? Well, you'll be crowing soon enough, especially when I'm plowing between Jo's sweet thighs and showing her what a real man is like." Jack snarled and was struggling to reach for his hidden pistol when the door of the limousine opened and Barbossa emerged, dragging a bound and struggling Jo with him.

"Now, now, Dixon, that's no way to be greeting our guest. It's not sporting to be hitting a man that can't hit you back." Turning his attention to his fellow pirate, Barbossa grinned, cocking his head arrogantly as he acknowledged his nemesis's presence. "Ahoy there, Jack…why, it 'pears you haven't changed a bit in o'er four centuries since we last crossed blades. You're.still the same runty scallywag I marooned on that godforsaken island on two separate occasions, and on neither occasion did you oblige me by dying. Well, you can be sure I won't be making that mistake again. Now stop that!" Barbossa growled at Jo, who was kicking him and fighting to get to Jack. He jerked her in front of him by the arm and backhanded her hard across the face, releasing her to sink in a limp heap of satin skirts on the cold concrete floor.

Jack looked down at her tearstained face and locked down his growing rage. "You've got what you wanted, Barbossa…I'm here at your mercy, so take your revenge. Just let the girl go."

"Now Jack, why would I be wanting to do a fool-hearty thing like that? You're a sly fox, a damned good pirate through and through, and if I was to let this pretty bird go, there wouldn't be anything stopping you from slipping out o'your cage and flying after her. I admire your taste, boy….she's beautiful and spirited too. Breaking her will take time, and that's something I've plenty of. Besides," Barbossa grinned, reaching down to run his fingers through Jo's short curls. "T'would be a shame to let go of something so fine…waste not and all." A moment later he was howling as Jo turned her head and bit him on the hand. He retaliated by pulling her to her feet by her hair, kissing her brutally and laughing when she choked and gagged. "Oh, I like this one, Jack….she's much more lively than Turner's bitch." Still chuckling, he pushed her down again, and followed that action up with a brutal kick, the brunt of which was luckily absorbed by her skirts. Barbossa turned to Michael with a grin. "It appears you got your wish, lad….broken and on the ground, just like you wanted to see her. Maybe I'll let you have a taste o'her once we're through with Jack."

Jack was about to leap to her defense when he felt a strange current of energy pass through him that made his hair stand up on end. From the expression on Barbossa's face, he felt it too, and it made him uneasy as well. Michael made a strange sound, and they both turned to see him swaying slightly and clutch his hand to chest, his face suddenly quite pale in the dimly lit warehouse.

"The spell….something's happening with the spell…" Michael choked out, lowering his hand and howling as he looked at his left palm, where the slash made by Remy had begun to bleed copiously, running down his arm and soaking into his expensive suit.

"Bind his wound, fools, else he'll bleed out a'fore we're through here!" Barbossa growled at the two stunned guards, who quickly glanced around for something to wrap the wound with. Rolling his eyes, the older pirate stepped forward and pointed at Jack. "Remove his belt and use his bloody sash---he'll not be needing it any longer."

Jack cursed and fought the guards, hoping to prevent Barbossa and his gang from noticing Jo, who was edging backwards with crab-like slowness while their attention was on him. She happened to glance over to her right and froze, spotting the handle of a dagger hidden in the pirate's left boot. Before she lost her courage, she slipped the slim stiletto from its hiding place and secreted it in the folds of her skirts as she continued to scoot silently along the floor back towards the limo.

The timing of the next sequence of events couldn't have worked out better if they had been choreographed by an expert. The guards had removed Jack's belt and were about to remove his faded sash when the sound of running footsteps and gunfire distracted them long enough for Jack to break free. Abandoning Jack, the two hired guards took off after Max, who quickly took them down. Hearing the shots and fearing for both his life and his job when one bullet cracked the supposedly bullet proof glass on his door, the limo driver hit the gas and took off. Barbossa reacted immediately by reaching down and grasping Jo by the hair, pulling her up to use as a shield as Jack removed his pistol from its hiding place and held it to Michael's head.

"Seems each of us has what the other wants, doesn't it, mate? What say you let go of Jo, I'll let this puny excuse for a man live and we'll be square, savvy?" He looked at the bleeding man beside him and raised one eyebrow. "Looks like Dixon here is in a bad way….you'd best come to a decision quick like, old man. Do we have an accord?" Jack was cool as a cucumber, although inside he was desperately afraid---the gutsy artist that he loved was in a perilous position.

"Oh, aye, I've come to a decision, Jack…..I've decided that this piece o' fluff isn't worth bedding for revenge on you after all, so I'll just send you both to hell right now and be done with it, damn your accord!" He placed one hand on Jo's forehead preparing to twist and break her graceful neck but stopped suddenly, a stunned look on his face. He stumbled back, releasing Jo as he looked down at the dagger sticking out of his belly, the dark blood shining wetly as it quickly soaked into the faded black fabric of his coat.

"In art school I had to study human anatomy, and if I'm correct I just spitted your liver, shit for brains! You cut my friggin hair, asshole….and ain't payback's a bitch?" Jo snarled as she stepped back as the pirate fell to his knees. "Oh, and one last thing….you're a rotten kisser." She spit on him contemptuously as Jack strode over to join her, removing a brace of pistols and the cutlass from the mortally wounded pirate's belt. He used the sword to free her bound hands before kissing her briefly but hungrily, as if assuring himself that she was all right. Stepping back, he unwound his sash and handed it to her with a gesture towards her swaying former employer.

"Best take care of Dixon 'fore he bleeds to death. I was going to kill the bastard but I'm sure the authorities are going to lookin' for the ones responsible for this mess. Being that I'm not too fond of lockups meself, I'd rather it wasn't you, love." Picking up his belt from the ground where the guards had dropped it, he rebelted it in place, grinning at her and nodding in a friendly manner as Max and the two women converged on the scene. "Ladies, I am in your debt. Fine spell work, though hopefully it's the last I'll ever experience, unless you 'ave a spare love potion you need testing out." Jack winked saucily. "Think you lot can handle getting this prat fixed up? No need to be gentle…he did punch me, after all."

Turning to Max, he grinned and reached to shake hands. "Right nice timing there, mate…I'm looking forward to sharing tales of past exploits with you at your leisure." His grin faded slightly and his voice lowered. "Think you can get them out of here? I have some business to conclude with my old ship mate, and it won't be pleasant." Max nodded, and Jack began to make his way toward the fallen pirate.

Jo remained behind as Misty and Max hustled a half-conscious Michael towards the doorway as Bethany went to secure the unconscious guards for apprehension. Jack still held Barbossa's cutlass in his hand and was stroking it almost reverently. She caught his arm and stopped him a few yards from the pirate, who had fallen onto his back on the concrete floor. "Jack?" she questioned softly, concern evident in her voice.

"You shouldn't be here for this, sweet. I'm going to make him pay for what he's done to you. He put his filthy hands on you, and I intend to relieve him of them." His demeanor was hard, his voice gruff with unrelieved tension and fury as he looked at his enemy, who lay helpless before him.

As much hatred as she had for Barbossa, Jo was still horrified at his intentions. "Jack, no! He's already dying, lover…..I hate him too, believe me, but what you're suggesting is…well, gross and too mean even for you. I already have his death on my conscience, Jack…..don't add accessory to torture to that burden. Please Jack, for me?"

Jack stared at the dying man for a long time before he raised his eyes to the teary eyed woman at his side. She had been through hell in the past few days, he couldn't bear to put her through any more anguish. With a sigh and nod, he acquiesced to her relief, and slid the blade into his belt. Her face fell as she saw him pull out the pistol which he had tucked in his shirt while removing his sash, and looked at him with hurt in her eyes.

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to shoot him, love….I'm going to give him the gentleman's option of eating a bullet or bleeding to death, same as he done me on more than one occasion. It's the pirates way, poppet…..all part of the Code. Run along now and let me say me farewells to the bloody rotter, ay?"

With a sweet smile, she threw her arms around his neck. "Have I told you lately that I am the luckiest damn woman on the planet and that I love you with everything that I am, Jack Sparrow?" Placing her hands on either cheek, she pulled his head down and kissed him passionately, before releasing him with regret. She looked at him for a long moment before stepping back with a sexy smile. "Don't be long….as I recall you still have some serious making up to do to me, and if you don't hurry I might just have to start making a new wax man. Maybe I'll try Antonio Banderas…he's kinda cute."

Jack growled and lunged at her as she giggled and evaded his arms, heading toward to door where Bethany waited. Turning back to the pirate, his face became solemn as he and his former first mate gazed silently at one another. It was Barbossa who finally broke the standoff.

"Well, Jack, I guess you've managed to do it again---walk away with nary a care in the world while I die. Oh wait, that's right, you did manage to dangle at the end of the rope for a bit, now didn't ya? They just don't train executioners like they used to, more's the pity."

Jack merely smiled. "You keep forgetting one very important thing, mate."

Barbossa snorted. "Not that "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow" claptrap again? Go ahead and shoot me now, if you please…better that than have to listen to you talk about yourself."

Jack's smile widened and he crouched down next to the dying man. "Not at all, mate…I was just gonna say that you forgot that a man will go to extreme lengths to protect his treasure. Besides, much as I'd enjoy it I can't shoot ya….promised Jo I wouldn't, and Jack Sparrow always keeps his promises. So, here ya go," he placed the pistol in Barbossa's hand with a cocky grin. "One shot, just like you gave me. It's Saturday, and I reckon that there won't be anyone here until Monday at the earliest, so I wouldn't count on being rescued. Don't wait too long, or you won't have the strength to pull the trigger. It's more than you deserve, but I gave my word." Getting back to his feet, he turned his back and walked toward the door, away from his past and toward the future with the woman he loved.

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Jo and Bethany were discussing the particular of Jo's kidnapping and subsequent rescue as they walked away from the warehouse when they heard the echo of a pistol shot. Both women flinched and froze in place, looking at each other as they realized that a man had just died. They both turned back to look toward the warehouse, waiting expectantly for Jack to come through the doorway at any moment. Moments passed and there was no sound, no movement at all, and Jo became worried. Bethany tried to calm her, but Jo broke free and flew down the lane as fast as her silken skirts would allow.

Halting in the open doorway, she was relieved when she saw Barbossa's body and the familiar figure standing in the dim light not far from the door, a smile on his face and his eyes full of love and promise. "Jack, I was so worried….why didn't you come…." Her voice trailed off when she realized that he was too still……

"NOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

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**Epilogue to follow……..(…it's not over by a long shot, so don't throw rotten vegetables at me just quite yet, folks!)**


	24. Chapter 24

_Here it is...the long awaited ending to my first ever Fan Fiction! Enjoy!_**  
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**Chapter 24: Epilogue**

_Two months later….._

Jo paused in front of the figure that haunted her dreams and gazed into those bottomless brown eyes, just as she had each and every night since he'd left her in that warehouse. As the new lead artist and interim curator of Madame T's Las Vegas, it was her job to inspect each work on a daily basis and make note of any changes or repairs that needed to be made. She always did this after closing, just before locking up and setting the alarms for the night. That way noone except Frank would see how long she spent in front of one particular display, how she touched the dark hair and spoke to it, and sometimes even kissed the smiling lips. And if her eyes weren't exactly dry when she left each evening, the older man's eyes were full of understanding and sympathy as she passed by him.

"Congratulate me, Jack…..the London office likes the job I've been doing as interim curator so much that they've decided to offer me the spot permanently. Imagine me, a genuine curator! It means longer hours, but I'm used to that, and the pay is obscene! They'll even throw in a car, 401K and insurance, which is going to come in handy soon. I will have the authority to hire new staff and assign new projects, which is way cool….I can see why Michael relished having the job…it's a real power trip." She reached up and adjusted his hair, and grimaced when she noticed a smudge of lipstick that wasn't hers on his cheek. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she dabbed it with her tongue and removed the offensive mark from her beloved's face as she continued to speak.

"Speaking of Michael, they also informed me that during the audit they discovered he'd been skimming off the books for quite some time. I have to admit that doesn't surprise me at all—he'd hock his granny if he thought he could get away with it. Too bad the bastard is locked up in the state hospital for the criminally insane….I would have liked to see him pay for his crimes, but I guess going from wearing Armani suits and dining on caviar to eating Jell-o and holding nothing more dangerous than a crayon is as close to justice as he'll ever come. Guess he regrets babbling about Voodoo priestesses and pirates from another dimension coming to life." Jo couldn't help but chuckle at the look on the face of her former boss when he was escorted from the courtroom. Priceless.

"I talked with Misty for a long time after you left. She felt really bad and thinks that her spell was the reason you left, but I don't think that is true at all. Bethany says that you must have been some kind of guardian angel, and that once I was no longer in danger, you went back to wherever you came from. I can understand if you had to leave, but damnit, Jack, you didn't even say goodbye! I am so pissed at you for that!" Jo exhaled loudly, trying to calm her temper. "I hope noone ever hears me talking to you this way, cause if they do they'll probably put me in a cell next to Michael, but it's the only thing that keeps me sane anymore. At times I miss you so badly it hurts." At this, Jo paused and took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears in her eyes. She gave a long sigh, and her hand dropped back to her side.

"Anyway, Jack, I've agreed to take the position for the next 6 months, and then Bethany is going to take over while I take some time off. I've just found out that you left me a little something to remember you by, and I'm going to take some time to get to know him or her. I only wish you could be here now, and I hope you can hear me when I say I love you with every breath in me, and I will until the end of days. Goodnight, love." She smooched his cold wax lips softly before turning to leaving the waxworks, completely missing the sudden flash of light that sparked in the figure's glass eyes.

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His scent was so intoxicatingly wonderful that she couldn't get enough of it.

Sea salt, leather, sweat and the musky scent of pure maleness filled her nostrils, and she leaned back into his protective embrace as they stood on the deck of _The Black Pearl_, his hands on either side of her on the wheel. She felt his lips graze her ear as he nuzzled her neck in that sensitive spot just under her chin that always made her giggle. It was early evening, the sea was relatively calm and she could hear the echo of the ships bell….funny, it was ringing so strangely….

Jo's eyes cracked open and she cursed as she realized that the ringing of the telephone had pulled her from slumber and the nightly dreams of Jack. Each dream was unique and in each, Jack was her friend, tutor, companion and lover as they traveled to exotic places and encountered adventures of all sorts. They had started the night he left, and those precious dream moments were the one thing she didn't share with anyone, not even Bethany. The clock said that it was a few minutes past 2 a.m., way too late for any casual call. Clearing her throat, she picked up the phone.

"If this is a crank caller, I have Mafia connections who will hunt you down and take you out." Jo growled, angry at being pulled from her interlude with Jack.

"Love, it's Bethany…..I hate to wake you, but Frank just called me, and I knew you'd want to know right away….There's been a fire at the hotel.."

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Jo was numb as she walked past the bevy of television satellite trucks, police cars and fire personnel to the employee entrance. Bethany and Frank waited just outside, talking with a uniformed officer, who was busily taking notes. Seeing her approach, Bethany excused herself and came to put her arm around her friend and colleague.

"You ok, love? You look completely knackered."

"I'm fine….just a bit tired. Can you tell me what happened?" Jo pulled her light sweater a little tighter around her neck. She was still wearing her silk pajama shirt over her blue jeans, and the wintry air blew harshly against her exposed skin.

"From what they can tell, the fire broke out in one of the restaurant kitchens and caused an explosion that sent a fireball into the ventilation system. The fire system pipes leading to our section were damaged during the initial blast, so our sprinklers were useless. The structural harm was mainly limited to the restaurant and the movie theaters, but the heat and smoke damage was extensive. The museum….Jo, they say it's a total loss." Tears were flowing down Bethany's cheeks unchecked as she embraced her friend tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"No….they have to be wrong! They can't be gone! Jack can't be gone!" She jerked away from Bethany and dashed into the building, completely disregarding her friend's protests. Her heart sank as she saw the dark black soot marks on the ceiling of the hallway. As she approached the display room, she began to see clumps of what looked like melted wax in footprint patterns, apparently left by the firefighters as they battled the blaze. She ducked under the crime scene tape and taking a deep breath, swung open the door into her own personal hell.

The main power to the room had been cut, and the devastation was lit only by emergency lights over the exits, but it was sufficient to see that the displays had been annihilated by the heat and smoke. Those displays that were in the far corners were mostly melted but still upright, while those directly under the large vents were nothing more than tangled puddles of soot covered wire, fabric and wax. Jack fell under the second category.

Jo stumbled to where what was left of her beloved pirate remained, and falling to her knees, she reached out with a trembling hand and picked up the weathered tri-cornered hat, clutching it to her chest as she began to sob. She cried not just for herself, but for the new life inside her, and for the loss of the hope that he would someday come to life again.So intense was her weeping that she never heard the door open behind her or the booted footsteps as they approached and crouched down beside her.

"You really shouldn't be in here, you know. It's not good for the baby."

The quiet yet familiar voice startled Jo, and she gripped the hat even tighter, not bothering to look up at the speaker. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that he was wearing heavy boots and what she recognized as a fireman's uniform.

"I don't give a rat's ass whether or not I'm supposed to be here…and unless you plan on dragging me out of here kicking and screaming, I'm staying. I'm the curator, and I have every.right to be here and…..how did you know about the baby? I haven't told anyone except…" She gasped and looked up, her startled green eyes meeting warm brown ones in a face that she had been sure she'd never see again except on a movie screen. His expression was both amused and tender as he grasped her arms gently and lifted them both to their feet and pulled her into his arms.

"Oh God….Jack?"

His only response was a smile and a kiss…….

FIN 

_Well folks, there you have it! The journey of Jack, Jo and her friends is finally over, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There is the possibility of a sequel using some of our supporting characters, but no promises yet---I have other stories that I will be finishing before I start any new ones! Thanks again for all your support!_


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